


Until We Meet Again

by Seaver



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coaching, Eventual Romance, M/M, Post-Canon, breakup and makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-23 12:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 52,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16159388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seaver/pseuds/Seaver
Summary: Mere months after the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri suffers a debilitating knee injury.  He's certain his career is over, but Victor disagrees.  Tensions rise until they part ways, both professionally and romantically.Six years later, their fight is far behind them.  Victor's coaching an up-and-coming 14-year-old skater, Katya, in the Junior division when she gets into a Twitter feud with the Nishigori triplets, who are skating under the watchful eye of Coach Katsuki.Now Victor and Yuuri are talking for the first time in years.  Can they keep their past in the past, or will old feelings resurface and complicate their professional relationship?





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a few things before we begin! You'll notice in this chapter that we time travel a little bit, back to Yuuri and Victor's breakup, "six years ago" (immediately after season 1 ends), and "present day", which is six years in the future, where the bulk of the story will take place. I'm sorry if this is confusing, but I felt that it was important to tell the story of the breakup. I didn't want to lump the breakup all in one piece because it's a bit angsty, which is not the tone of the overall story. This time-jumping will last for several chapters, and then it will all take place in the future timeline.
> 
> Also, I took a few liberties moving competitions around. Many fanfic writers feel that Russia's and Japan's National competitions overlap right after season one ends because that's how the season went in real life. But that didn't work for me plot-wise, so I made Russia's first, and Japan's right after.

* * *

  _ **@sukeota3sisters** Be sure to check out our blog post covering @kaytandreevna 's Worlds performance!_

* * *

 

_Six Years Ago_

 

“I’ll time my return to Russian Nationals.”

That’s what Victor had said. When he told Yakov he wanted to come out of retirement, that is. And honestly, Yuuri wasn’t sure there had ever been a more stupid phrase that had ever left Victor’s mouth.

It was more stupid than, “Why pay for a groomer? I can give Makkachin a haircut myself.”

It was more stupid than, “Your mother doesn’t need a recipe for miso soup. Why should I?”

It was even more stupid than, “It’s at least partially my fault if you mess up your program today and don’t make it onto the podium. I’ll take responsibility and resign as your coach.”

There were roughly ten days of practice time between the Grand Prix Final and Russian Nationals, if that. Ten days. Ten days to choose two programs from his past (no time to choreograph two new ones), practice them, train hard enough to get his quads back into fighting shape. On top of all that, he had Yuuri to coach, too. Japanese Nationals were right after the Russian ones. They both had a tight schedule to keep.

Victor hadn’t seemed the least bit worried. No one in Russia could rival him. After all, Yurio’s ego was far more impressive than his skating skills, right? No fifteen-year-old was good enough to break Victor’s five-year winning streak. No problem.

But Yuuri was worried. He wasn’t sure anyone could get into competitive shape in ten days. Not even the legend, Victor Nikiforov.

As it turned out, they were both kind of right. Victor competed, and he did pretty well. He won bronze.

For any other skater, it would have been a miraculous comeback. People would have been talking about it for years.

But Victor only likes gold.

Yuuri watches him now, out of the corner of his eye, as he stretches before his free skate program in Japanese Nationals. Victor’s gaze is intently focused on the TV screen in the waiting area, mentally calculating Minami Kenjiro’s technical score as he skates. He taps his lip, his mouth a grim line.

In other competitions, Victor had always been focused on Yuuri. He used to be attentive to how Yuuri was preparing, ready to run the other skaters over to get Yuuri some water, had Yuuri only asked. But not today.

“Hey,” Yuuri says, and Victor reluctantly tears his eyes away from the screen. “You okay? You seem… distracted.”

Victor smiles a smile that Yuuri recognizes from a hundred interviews. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

Yuuri frowns, but Victor’s already looking back at the TV, so he doesn’t see.

Yuuri thinks back to the Cup of China, just a few months ago, when Makkachin had almost died. Victor had acted similarly back then, trying to put his coaching duties above his fear for Makkachin’s safety, maybe as a way to escape his feelings. Yuuri had been able to snap Victor out of it, back then. But since this bronze, Yuuri hasn’t been able to get through to Victor at all.

When Yuuri steps onto the ice, Victor clasps their hands together and it almost feels normal. “You get me that gold, Yuuri,” Victor says. “I haven’t kissed one all season.”

The words are meant to sound like a challenge, Yuuri knows, but there’s a ferocious glint in Victor’s eye that makes him uneasy. He ignores the feeling in the pit of his stomach, kisses their rings, and skates off.

His free skate starts off normally enough. The piano music fills the arena, and Yuuri lets it fill his heart, too. He lets the music start the story as he performs his sweeping arm gestures and gathers speed for his quad-triple combination.

He jumps in time to the lone high note, and immediately knows something’s off. His jump is off-axis. He’s made this mistake before, of course, in practice. He can let himself fall, landing harmlessly on his hip with enough momentum to roll right back up, but he’d have to skip the triple in order to keep up with the music. He wouldn’t get the points for the combination, and there would be a deduction for falling.

Or he can try and see if he can land it. If he wobbles on the landing, touches the ice with just his hand, he may still be able to pull a double out of thin air. It’s the option that would earn him more points, for sure. But… it’s a pretty big ‘if.’

He’s only in the air for a second and a half, and he has even less time than that to decide.

And Victor really wants that gold.

So Yuuri decides to try and land it. An instant after he makes the decision, though, he can feel it’s the wrong one. His hesitation has thrown off his momentum, and he’s not going to land the way he wants to at all. Fearing the impact to his ankle, he tenses his muscles and…

The skate hits the ice and the blade shutters away, straight behind him. Ah. It’s not his ankle he should have been worried about. It’s his knee. It happens so fast, but Yuuri feels it in slow motion, the twist, the feeling of bone on cartilage. He can almost hear it, the unnatural ‘clunk’ inside his body.

Then he’s on the ice and the impact is over. The pain isn’t so bad. He pushes up and scurries to his feet.

It’s the kind of twist that one could ‘walk off.’ One that would stop you short, have you swing your leg for a few seconds, testing the hinge, before timidly putting a little weight on. The longer you’d walk on it, the better it would feel. Soon you wouldn’t even have a limp.

But Yuuri’s not walking. He’s not even just skating. He’s performing. And he can’t stop.

He adjusts the next step sequence, relying more heavily on his left leg. The spins, luckily, utilize his left leg, too. But the jumps…

They’re all about the right.

He can’t do any more quads, that’s for sure. Even the triples are iffy. He goes through his routine, downgrading everything, hoping to land a triple for his last jump. It would give his knee a few minutes to settle down, and at the end of the program, maybe give him an extra point or two. It’s the best he can hope for, at this point.

In the end it goes okay, just a little bit of shakiness on the landing. The ending notes are an immense relief as he strikes his final pose, trying not to wear his disappointment so clearly on his face.

It was just like last year’s Nationals. Just as humiliating, even if he has an excuse this time.

He takes his bows, drifts along the ice on his left leg, only switching to the right when he has to increase his momentum.

“Yuuri, Yuuri!” a familiar voice is yelling. Yuuri looks up to see Victor, worry clear on his face. “How bad is it?” he asks immediately when Yuuri steps off the ice, slipping on his skate guards. “Can you make it to the kiss and cry, or should we see the medic first?”

“I think I’m okay,” Yuuri answers, and his own voice sounds far away. “I can walk.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t need a medic,” says Victor. He takes Yuuri’s elbow and supports some of his weight as they head to the kiss and cry.

They watch the big screens together as they replay the jump in slow motion. He didn’t even get enough rotations for the quad. Yuuri grinds his teeth together when he sees himself hit the ice. “I shouldn’t have tried to save it,” he mutters, knowing the camera is picking up everything he’s saying.

“It’s okay,” Victor says. He doesn’t disagree with Yuuri. He’s not reassuring him about his decision. It’s not very comforting. “It’s okay.”

No quads. Downgraded jumps. A deduction for the fall. Yuuri doesn’t make the podium.

* * *

 

_Present Day_

 

“Okay!” Victor claps his hands together. It doesn’t exactly have the desired effect when he’s wearing gloves, but he’s enthusiastic nonetheless. “From the top!”

His young student, Katya, spins to a stop on the ice in front of him and puts her hands on her hips. “Again?” she asks, her frown impatient. “Can’t you just tell me what I’m doing wrong?”

Victor waves a hand dismissively. “It needs to be tighter. You’re sloppy.”

Katya huffs in that annoyed way that only a fourteen-year-old could. “You’ve said that ten times, so I clearly can’t fix it!” She blows a loose strand of her blonde hair out of her eyes. “What specifically do you mean?”

Victor shakes his head, raises his eyes to the ceiling of the rink. Katya had always had trouble with step sequences. “Just… cleaner!”

“That doesn’t help me!”

A nearby coach, watching his own student, shoots the two of them a dirty look for being so noisy. Victor ignores him, losing patience. “Do you want me to show you again?”

“I’ve seen you do it. I can’t tell what you’re doing differently.”

“You just need to be more…” he wracks his brain, trying to think of the word. “Staccato.”

Katya stares. “Staccato?”

He nods. “Yes. Staccato.”

She throws her hands up into the air. “That’s a music word! How am I supposed to apply that to skating? Take shorter steps?”

Now that she mentions it, ‘staccato’ may not have been the best way to describe it. “No, no…”

“I have to keep up my speed, Victor. I’ve got that triple flip right after.”

Victor shakes his head. “I know, I know!” It comes out a little louder than he means it to. That coach from before ushers his skater to a more crowded part of the rink, just to get away from them. “That’s not really what I meant to say…”

Katya shakes her head too, ponytail swaying as she looks across the room at nothing in particular.

Victor runs a hand through his hair. “Listen, I think we’re done for now. Focus on the barre at ballet today.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She’s already skating towards the gate, leaving Victor alone on the ice.

“And your tutor will be here at three,” he calls after her. “Don’t keep her waiting again!”

When she disappears into the locker room, he groans in irritation and launches himself into a triple Salchow. He lands perfectly, but the vibrations run up his landing leg in a way they wouldn’t have five years ago. The jump does not temper his frustration.

Once, people had contacted him from all corners of the world to hire Victor as a coach. Upon news of his (second) retirement, he was bombarded with requests. They offered everything: inordinately high coaching fees, all moving costs covered to relocate to skaters’ home rinks, even pet hotel fees for Makkachin when he traveled. One person even tried to blackmail him. In the end, though, all he wanted was to stay at home in St. Petersburg.

If only they could see him now. So much knowledge, so much experience, but unable to communicate well enough to pass it on. And unfortunately, his student couldn’t read his mind.

Well… one student had been able to. A long time ago.

Victor shakes his head clear and skates over to the boards, picking up his cell phone and water bottle before heading off the ice. Katya performed well last season, and he has no doubt that she’ll take Junior Worlds in March. They’ll work through this step sequence thing, eventually. He takes a swig of water, checks his Twitter notifications.

He’s been tagged. Someone tweeted “Wonder what @vnikiforov thinks about all this…” It takes a little digging, but eventually he finds out what they’re talking about. Katya had just tweeted:

_**@kaytandreevna** Just heard Lutz the Klutz couldn’t pass her Junior exams. Guess I have to wait until next year to beat all three @sukeota3sisters at once!_

Victor recognizes the other Twitter handle immediately. The same username had been used on Youtube, attached at the bottom of a video that he had watched daily, once upon a time. The Nishigori triplets.

He speeds through the mens’ locker room, still clad in his skates, and catches Katya in the hallway on the other side.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” he demands.

Katya looks genuinely surprised. “What?” Her eyes dart down to his skate guards, then up to his face. He towers over her even more than usual, now that she’s wearing sneakers.

“This.” He thrusts the phone in her face. “I know we had a rough practice, but that’s no reason to take it out on younger skaters.”

Katya pushes his phone away. “They started it.”

“Wait.” He had been about to launch into a lecture, but he stops himself. “They started… what, exactly?”

“The fight. They started badmouthing me on their blog weeks ago. So I tweeted at them and…”

Victor blinks dumbly. “You’ve been in a fight with the Nishigori triplets… for weeks?”

Katya adjusts her skate bag over her shoulder. “’Fraid so.”

“But… but they’re just kids!”

Katya looks at him strangely, like he’s grown another head. “They’re thirteen. Two of them will be making their Junior debuts this season.”

Victor doesn’t really know how to handle this information. If the triplets were going to be in the same division as Katya, that means it’s possible they might have events together. He hasn’t seen the triplets in six years… or their coach.

At Victor’s extended pause, Katya scoots away. “Can I go now?”

A model coach would probably reprimand her for her conduct online, but Victor figures that can wait until tomorrow and dismisses her. He trudges slowly toward his office, thinking.

For a long time, he had followed Yuuri’s life and career, setting up news alerts on his phone, signing up for fan newsletters. ‘Obsessive’ and ‘pitiful,’ Yurio had called it. But Victor couldn’t help it. His whole life had revolved around Yuuri when they were together, and it seemed strange to just turn around and go their separate ways, even if they parted under unsavory circumstances. He went along that way for a while, his phone acting as a Yuuri-patch, helping to ease the transition to a Yuuri-less life.

And then the romance rumors started flying.

Katsuki Yuuri and Phichit Chulanot! Katsuki Yuuri and Sara Crispino! Katsuki Yuuri and Christophe Giacometti! Each tabloid headline was a knife in Victor’s heart, but that last one sent him into a panic for a full three hours before he reclaimed the presence of mind to realize it was the most unlikely rumor of all. Chris was Victor’s best friend, and he had a partner, besides.

So he unsubscribed from the mailing lists. He disabled the alerts. He limited himself to only one Google search a week, skimming the headlines for professional information only, and always from the most reputable sources: ESPN, The Olympic Channel, Ice Network, and Phichit Chulanot’s Instagram.

Here’s what he knows:  
-Yuuri resides in Hasetsu, Japan  
-Yuuri coaches the Nishigori triplets at Ice Castle Hasetsu  
-Yuuri still works at his parents’ inn  
-Yuuri became an uncle a year or so ago

…And that’s it. He had no idea two of the triplets were going to make their Junior debut this year. He wracks his brain as he enters his office and sits down behind his desk.

He can’t remember the last time he’d looked up Katsuki Yuuri on the internet. It may have been weeks. That’s good, right?

He’s finally getting over him! It took six years, but Victor’s finally in a place where he can live his life without thinking about his ex-boyfriend! Hooray!

He jiggles the mouse to wake up his laptop, then promptly Googles ‘Katsuki Yuuri.’

Come on. It had been weeks.

* * *

 

_Six Years Ago_

 

Yuuri’s leg jiggles nervously. His left one, not his right. He looks around the little Tokyo cafe with unseeing eyes.

Victor’s warm hand covers his knee. The jiggling one. Yuuri stops its movement and meets his fiancé’s eyes.

“Hey,” Victor says gently. “Calm down. It’ll be okay.”

“’Calm down?’” Yuuri parrots. “Victor, they asked me to come all the way to Tokyo. What could the JSF possibly have to say to me that couldn’t be said over the phone?”

Bad news. It has to be bad news.

“Listen.” Victor ignores his question. “I’ve been to tons of meetings with officials before. They’re just ordinary people, like you and me. Nothing to be nervous about.”

Ordinary people who could put an end to his career if they so chose. Victor sips his latte, Yuuri resumes his leg-jiggling.

Their contact meets up with them shortly, an impossibly tiny woman by the name of Koto. She and Yuuri bow to each other, she and Victor shake hands. Yuuri doesn’t think he’s ever been afraid of someone so small before.

They all sit down. Koto and Victor make small talk, like they’re old friends. Yuuri’s relieved that the JSF had the foresight to send someone who spoke English. Otherwise, whatever horrible news Koto gave him would have to be translated immediately for Victor. Yuuri isn’t sure he would have had it in him to translate right now.

“Let’s talk about why I’m here today,” Koto finally says, folding her hands and smiling warmly at Yuuri. “First of all, congratulations on your silver in the Grand Prix Final. You made us all very proud.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri says tensely.

“However,” she says slowly. “Your performance at Nationals…”

“There was an injury,” Yuuri hurries to defend himself. “I can refer you to the doctor.”

Koto’s nodding. “We know all about it, of course.” She studies Yuuri carefully. “It’s just… we find ourselves in 2017 now.” She affords a quick smile to Victor. “Can you believe it?”

“How time flies,” Victor smiles amicably back.

The cliché January small talk makes Yuuri want to die.

“So that would make next year 2018.” She takes a sip of her coffee and looks at them meaningfully. “You know what happens in 2018.”

Yuuri exhales. “The Olympics.”

He’s just humoring her by answering. All three of them know exactly what she’s talking about.

She nods. “Right. Now, Japan has three slots for its team, and I can assure you, we’re watching everyone very closely. And you have been… uneven.”

“Wait a second,” Victor jumps to Yuuri’s defense. “Yuuri won second place at the Grand Prix Final just a month ago. That’s the best Japan’s done since…” Victor trails off, probably trying to remember the last time he shared a podium with someone Japanese.

“We’re aware,” Koto says crisply, cutting him off before he can come up with an end to his sentence. “Yuuri didn’t even come close to that kind of performance last season. Even this season, so far… He gets silver in the Cup of China, he doesn’t make the podium at Rostelecom. He wins silver in the Grand Prix Final, he misses the podium again at Nationals.”

Victor is visibly irritated. “We told you. He got hurt.”

“And it’s already healed,” Yuuri adds. “The doctor’s cleared me to skate.”

“Be that as it may, we want our team to win us gold in Pyongchang. The way this season’s gone, plus your past performances…” Koto shrugs. “We may have to go with someone a little more consistent.”

“Like who?” Victor demands.

“Well, Minami Kenjiro has scored higher than Yuuri in the last two Nationals.”

“That kid? Yuuri outscored him by at least 40 points earlier this year.”

Koto raises her eyebrows at Victor. “Yes, but who knows how he’ll be performing with another year of practice under his belt?”

“And who knows how Yuuri will do with another year, too?” Victor immediately counters.

Koto looks taken off-guard. “Yes,” she says uncomfortably. “Yes, of course. I apologize, Mr. Katsuki.” She bows again. “I didn’t come here to attack you. I’m just here to inform you. We’ll be watching very closely.”

“Of course,” Yuuri says, head spinning.

“Also,” Koto looks uncomfortable. “You should know we’ve had talks with some of the recently retired Japanese figure skaters. A few of them have expressed interest in returning next season, so they may qualify for the Games.”

Yuuri’s heart speeds up. An older competitor would be a more serious threat to him than Minami, retired or not. Victor is proof of that. “Who?” he asks faintly.

Koto looks down at her coffee. “I’m not at liberty to say. Not until things are official.”

Naturally.

“Anyway,” Koto says when Yuuri stays silent. “That’s all, so I’ll take my leave. Good luck at Four Continents, Yuuri.”

“Thank you,” he says automatically.

Once she’s gone, Yuuri and Victor are quiet at the table. Yuuri hasn’t even been thinking about the Olympics. He had been planning on retiring after the Grand Prix Final, up until a month ago. Since then, he’s taken things one competition at a time. He hasn’t had time to think about his future.

But now he considers the possibility. He had only been 21 when the last Winter Olympics had come around. Still trying to find his footing as a professional skater and relatively new to the senior circuit, he hadn’t even been close to making the team. But now, he has the chance to make an appearance in the most prestigious competition in the world…

It’s tempting, for sure. He had promised Victor five gold medals. Surely an Olympic gold would count for two regular golds, at least…

But still. Just the idea of being on the world stage in such a public way sets his heart racing, and not in a good way. _Everyone_ watches the Olympics. It draws a much bigger crowd than normal skating competitions. After today’s meeting, it’s clear he’d really have to fight for his place on the Japanese team. The JSF apparently has little confidence in him.

And who’s coming out of retirement? Nobunari Oda? He may have retired two years ago, but he still participates in smaller competitions, so he’s in shape… it’s not that much of a stretch.

Victor’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “See? What’d I tell you? Nothing to worry about.”

Yuuri starts a little in surprise. “Nothing to worry…? Are you kidding? That was terrible!”

“No it wasn’t.” Victor waves off his protests. “It was just a little warning, that’s all. There are still plenty of chances to medal between now and Pyongchang. No big deal.”

Yuuri puts his head in his hands. Sometimes he wishes he can live in Victor’s world. There could be a giant mountain in front of Victor, and he’d laugh and start climbing it immediately. Nothing intimidates him.

That puts an idea in Yuuri’s head. He peeks through his fingers. “Are you hoping to make Russia’s Olympic team, too?”

Victor taps his chin, a small smile playing on his lips. “It would be fun to go together, don’t you think? Compete for an Olympic gold medal, side by side?” Victor looks so wistful that Yuuri can’t help but smile. He loves this man so much. “Of course,” Victor adds, “This would be our only chance. I’ll have retired for real by 2022.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri agrees. “Me too.”

Victor’s expression immediately turns sour. “No, Yuuri,” he admonishes. “You’ll only be 29. I’m sure you could hold on for one more Olympic games.”

Yuuri laughs at the absurdity of it, but Victor still looks serious. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” he says, just to appease Victor.

Victor nods, satisfied. “Let’s see,” he says, “Russia’s only got two slots for Pyongchang. It’ll be me and Yurio, probably. I doubt Georgi will beat either of us.” Victor’s face darkens. “Although with my bronze…”

There’s such venom in his eyes that Yuuri has to chime in. “The last of your career,” he assures him. “You have plenty more chances to get gold before the Olympics, too.”

Victor takes his hand, squeezes it, but Yuuri can tell that his mind is still far, far away.


	2. The Falls

 

* * *

_**@kaytandreevna** @sukeota3sisters You think I have time to respond to every kid with a twitter account? I'm too busy being fourth in the world! #notforlong #makingroomfornextyearsgold_

* * *

 

_Six Years Ago_

 

“Let me see the quad flip again,” Victor demands impatiently.

Yuuri sighs, tries to balance his phone awkwardly on the little tripod Victor bought him. “This stupid thing won’t stand up.”

On screen, Victor frowns. “I told you not to unclip it once you got it in there.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes. If he had left his phone in the tripod, he’d have to bend at an awkward angle to see Victor clearly. The camera had been pointed directly at the spot on the ice where Yuuri was practicing his jumps, but he’d picked it up when he skated over. Now, Yuuri fiddles with the contraption, trying to set it up again.

They had decided together that it wasn’t worth it for Yuuri to follow Victor to Europeans. With Four Continents so close, he couldn’t afford to skip practice. Especially after that conversation with the JSF.

It’s hard, being apart, but… Victor’s been distant even when they’re together. He’s so focused on training and coaching, there’s not time for much else.

Yuuri squints at the screen, stooping down in that uncomfortable angle to make eye contact with the camera as he works. “Aren’t you up soon?”

Behind Victor, other skaters and coaches bustle around chaotically, but Victor is unfazed. “I want to see the quad flip,” he insists.

“So watch the video I sent you yesterday,” Yuuri snaps, then breathes a sigh of relief when he finally stabilizes his phone.

“I want to see how you do it today,” Victor practically whines, even though Yuuri’s already skating into his starting position.

He knows he’s off screen, so he playfully shakes his fist at Victor’s image. Then he gains speed, turns, and jumps.

And it’s like the Japanese Nationals all over again. His right knee buckles immediately on landing.

All Yuuri can concentrate on is the pain permeating his leg. “Ah!” he gasps involuntarily. He can tell he’s re-injured only his knee, but the pain feels like it encompasses the whole area, shin and thigh and all.

He sits up, keeps his knee bent, assesses the damage. He’s breathing deeply, electricity sparking through his limbs, and he pounds the ice in frustration. He lets out a rare swear.

“Yuuri!” Victor’s tinny voice sounds through the phone, barely audible from where Yuuri's sitting. “Are you okay? I can't see you!” There's a tinge of panic in his voice.

Yuuri swats his annoyance away. “I'm here,” he calls back, and his voice almost sounds normal. “I hurt my knee again… just a sec, I'll come get you.”

“No!” Victor yells. “Don't move! Get someone to help you.”

Yuuri clenches his eyes shut, but the pain is getting better with every passing second. “There's no one else here.” Yakov and all the other skaters are at Europeans, with Victor. He had been excited to have the St. Petersburg rink all to himself, to have a rare opportunity to skate alone. Now he’s regretting it. “It's not bad. I think I can get up.”

“Don't you dare,” Victor warns. “You might make it worse. I'll call the rink. There will be someone in the offices somewhere.”

The cold of the ice is already biting through the seat of his pants. “Okay,” he says nervously. Now that the pain in his leg is down to a dull throb, he’s beginning to think more clearly. “But Victor, don't you have to get on the ice soon?”

He can barely hear Victor say something to someone in the background. “Yuuri? I have to go. I have to call for help. Just stay there!”

“Okay!” Yuuri calls back. The background noise of the phone call cuts off. “I love you,” he adds, but the words are lost in the emptiness of the cold rink.

Later, after Yuuri's been examined and he finally gets his hands back on his phone, the news articles tell him how Victor barely made it onto the ice in time to avoid disqualification, then went on to earn an even lower score than at Nationals. He wins bronze again.

* * *

 

_Present Day_

 

“So you see, posting mean things online about your fellow competitors is not only unprofessional, it can also drive away sponsors and fans.” Good lord, Victor is even putting himself to sleep with this lecture. It had sounded okay in his head this morning, when he was making his way to the rink. “Just… stop it, okay?”

Katya stares at him from the rinkside bench, eyes glazed over. She shakes her head to reorient herself. “Sure, sure. Sounds good.”

Victor studies her closely. “You didn’t listen to a word I said, did you?”

“I got the gist!” the teenager protests. “Be nice, do unto others. I got it!” She stands up on her skate guards. “Can I skate now?”

“Wait!” Victor says before she steps onto the ice. “What about the Nishigori triplets?”

Katya’s blue eyes cloud over. “Oh, yeah. They really didn’t like that whole ‘Lutz the Klutz’ thing.” She removes her skate guards and puts them on the boards. “Don’t worry, though. I’ve got a great comeback planned.”

“No, wait!” Victor says again, but his voice is lost as Katya pushes off with her skates and glides into her warm-up laps, already out of earshot.

Victor groans and collapses on the bench, bringing a hand to his head. He never gave Yakov this much trouble when he was fourteen, did he? Sure, he may have argued about his workouts or his music or his programs, but surely he hadn’t caused this much drama!

Actually, it was exactly why Victor had chosen Katya as his first coaching student. They were birds of a feather. Victor had thought it would work out great. He and Yakov weren’t anything alike, and they always fought, so Victor decided pick a student he could relate with. But, as it turns out, there’s such a thing as being _too_ alike.

Now, he was dying to ask Yakov’s advice on how to handle this situation. Sadly, in his second major coaching decision, Victor had defiantly left Yakov’s rink and chosen another one to set up shop. After all, he had reasoned, how was he supposed to grow into his own coach if he was under Yakov’s wing all the time?

Victor’s too busy reflecting to realize someone else had followed them in. That is, until he receives a swift kick to the leg.

He looks up to see Yurio towering above him. “Ow,” he says articulately, rubbing his shin.

“Riveting speech,” Yurio says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I really think you got through to her.”

Victor stands. He hasn’t put on his skates yet, so Yurio stands a little bit taller than him. The day Victor realized Yurio had passed him up in height had been a sad day, indeed. Victor claps Yurio on the shoulder anyway. “What brings you to this part of town?”

Yurio shrugs, and they walk toward the rink together. “I was just in the neighborhood, thought I’d drop by.”

“Yuri!” Katya exclaims, skating over.

“Hey, kid,” Yurio grins. “Otabek’s making dinner tomorrow night. Are we finally going to finish season four of Walking Dead?”

Katya nods enthusiastically. “Sure, sounds good.”

They almost looked like siblings when they stood next to each other. Yurio had taken to Katya almost immediately. She was fourteen, living far away from her parents, and focused only on skating. Yurio and Victor could both relate.

“Hey, you’re still in trouble.” Victor leans against the boards. “No having fun.”

Katya cocks an eyebrow. “What are you going to do, ground me?”

She lives in a special dorm for young athletes, the some one Victor and Yurio had occupied at her age. Victor knows better than anyone that a coach’s authority can’t reach her there.

Victor rubs his forehead with a hand. “Just… go skate.”

Yurio laughs as Katya returns to practice. “Man, I love that kid,” he says.

“She’s driving me crazy.”

“That’s why I love her.”

Victor huffs as Yurio joins him, folding his arms on the boards. They both watch as Katya does a lazy double. “How’s Yakov and everyone?”

Yurio makes a disgusted noise. “Yakov’s even more of a dick than usual. Being so close to retirement is making him bitchy.”

Victor laughs. “He won’t know what to do with himself.” He looks over at the young man, who he’s watched grow up from a tiny seven-year-old. “And what about you? Will you find another coach?”

Yurio shoots him a rebellious smile. “Hell, yeah. Twenty-two’s way too young to retire. I’m just getting started.”

Victor grins back. Neither of them discuss who Yurio’s going to hire to coach him. Victor isn’t sure the two of them would be a good fit, if Yurio was interested in Victor as a coach at all. It’s a conversation for another day.

On the ice, Katya begins to run through her short program without the music. Victor takes a swig from his water bottle.

Casually, Yurio says, “Katsudon called me this morning.”

Victor chokes on his water. “What?”

Yurio chuckles at the reaction, knowing full well he’s torturing Victor. “We actually talk quite a bit, you know.”

“And you’re just telling me now?”

“Well, the conversation was about you, this time.” Victor nearly faints until Yurio jerks a thumb toward Katya. “Or, rather, about her.”

Of course. Of course it’s about the fight between their skaters. Yuuri is nothing if not professional.

Victor attempts to regain his composure. When he feels like he can play it cool, he says, “What did he say?”

Yurio’s not fooled. There’s a smirk playing on his lips. “He just wanted to know about her. Why she’s antagonizing his skaters.”

“Katya said they started it,” Victor says automatically. It was true, too. Victor had read the blog post and the whole Twitter exchange about ten times last night. The triplets had thrown the first stone, seemingly unprovoked.

“I’d believe that,” Yurio said easily. “In fact…” He leans over the boards and yells across the ice. “Hey! You’re biting off more than you can chew!”

Katya stops skating. “What?”

“With the Nishigoris! You’re in over your head.”

“Shut up!”

Yurio laughs again as Katya angrily resumes her routine. “They’ll eat her alive.”

“What did Yuuri say?” Victor presses again, impatient.

“Oh, right.” Yurio turns around to lean his back against the boards, draping his arms over lazily. Victor has to scoot out of the way so Yurio can fully stretch out. “He’s concerned. He thinks it’s bad for their image. Katya’s, too. He’s trying to decide how to handle it.”

“Maybe I should call him,” Victor muses, a little too eagerly. “Maybe this is something we should handle together.”

Yurio studies him out of the corner of his eye. “With anyone else, I would say you’re right. But this is you and Katsudon…” He cringes. “May not be the best idea.”

“Why not?” Victor demands. “It’s been six years. We can be amicable. We can be friends.”

Yurio sighs. “I’ve never known you two to be okay with just being friends. You may be stepping out onto some thin ice, here, Victor.”

Victor beams, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Good thing I’m an expert when it comes to ice.”

Pushing away from the boards, Yurio heads toward the exit. He barks a humorless laugh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Victor turns back to the ice, content to completely ignore Yurio’s advice, when Yurio calls out to him again.

“Hey!”

Rolling his eyes, Victor looks over his shoulder. “What?”

Yurio nods to the rink. “Her step sequence is sloppy.”

Victor is ready to scream. “I know!”

* * *

 

_Six Years Ago_

 

Yuuri sits on a bench in the holding area at Four Continents. Around him, the other skaters go through their pre-competition drills. The area hums with activity.

Or maybe that's Victor, humming thoughtfully as he unwraps the Ace bandage from Yuuri's knee. He pokes and prods, checking for swelling, occasionally meeting Yuuri's eyes to see if there's any pain.

His face is more weary than Yuuri's ever seen. There’s a wrinkle between his eyebrows that seems permanently etched. And as he gently bends Yuuri's knee, Yuuri can't help but think about how it's the most he's been touched by Victor in at least a week.

He was… different after Europeans. Less smiley. Less attentive. Yuuri has taken on feeding and walking Makkachin, just because Victor forgets more often than not.

Finally, Victor lets go of the knee and sits back. “It should be okay. It looked okay during warm-up.”

“The doctor cleared me a week ago.” Yuuri bends the knee. It feels okay, but he's apprehensive. “Do you think I should downgrade the flip? Make it a triple?”

Victor's head snaps up. “Your base score is already three points below JJ’s. If you want gold, we should keep the quad.”

Yuuri thinks back to his conversation with Koto. The JSF is watching him. He rubs his knee. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“You were landing it just fine in practice this week.”

True, but Yuuri had been using the harness. The whole point had been to work on his entry, to set himself up perfectly so he didn't encounter any problems mid-air. Every time he landed, the harness held the majority of his weight.

Nevertheless, Yuuri nods. He can land it. He’s landed it dozens of times before. Victor thinks he can do it.

So he ignores the ache in the pit of his stomach and follows Victor to the ice.

Before he starts his free skate, he bends over the boards to Victor, ready for another pep talk. Victor holds his gaze with his steely blue eyes. There’s an intensity there that both excites and frightens Yuuri.

“Make me proud,” he says forcefully. It makes Yuuri wonder, not for the first time, what will happen to them if Yuuri doesn’t start winning again. The stress of both coaching and being coached is wearing on Victor, that much was clear, so how much longer would it be before Victor decides to focus his energy on the more lucrative project? Who would Victor choose? Himself, or Yuuri?

Ultimately, these are all questions for another day. Yuuri pushes back from the boards and takes his beginning stance for Yuri on Ice.

And things go okay for a little while. Then his knee starts to twinge a little. He can feel its instability on some of his landings, though he doesn’t fall yet. He’s beginning to rethink that quad flip, right at the end. His knee is just too weak right now.

But Victor wants them to skate the Olympics together. Without that quad flip, Yuuri won’t have enough technical points to win. He finishes a spin and catches a glimpse of Victor, watching him intently. His hands are clutched into fists. Yuuri looks at him just long enough to see Victor mouth, ‘Do it.’

So Yuuri does it, even as the small voice in the back of his head screams ‘no!’ And it’s beautiful. Great height, enough rotations. Perfect form. Yuuri’s celebrating his victory when his right skate touches the ice.

And then he’s down. He’s face down and there’s something impossibly cold and hard against his forehead but it doesn’t matter because the pain radiating from his knee is white-hot.

He tries to move, tries to roll over or curl up or do something that will shift the ice off the places it’s currently touching. The minute he moves his leg, his whole body clenches up.

Tears prick his eyes. He’s done now. This isn’t some stupid walk-it-off injury anymore. He’s done with Four Continents and Worlds and quite possibly next season. No Olympics. Maybe no skating ever again.

He whimpers, for reasons that don’t just have to do with the pain, and somehow the sound snaps the rest of the world back into focus. There’s a dull murmur running through the audience that escalates with each moment Yuuri lays there. The announcer is babbling on in some language he doesn’t understand.

It’s overwhelming and humiliating and Yuuri just wants to disappear.

Then there’s a warm hand on his cheek, a soothing voice calling his name. It’s Victor, on his knees on the ice beside him. He gathers Yuuri up and pulls his head and shoulders off the ice, onto his lap.

It’s strangely reminiscent of lazy Sunday afternoons back in Hasetsu, except those afternoons lulled Yuuri into a sense of languid relaxation, and right now every nerve in his body is on fire. He wants to wrap his arms around Victor’s strong thighs, hold him close and comfort him because he’s obviously just as distressed as Yuuri. But Yuuri’s palms are too busy pressing against the ice, trying to keep any movement away from his knee.

“Victor,” he gasps, and somehow Victor can hear him over the roar of the audience.

“Shh, _solnyshko_.” Victor runs his fingers through Yuuri’s hair. “The medics are here. They’ll help you.”

Yuuri wishes he could just pass out and save himself from the pain and embarrassment he’s currently experiencing. It would make everything so much easier. But Victor is muttering concerned phrases in Russian, and it would make Victor panic even more if Yuuri fainted. So he fights to stay alert.

His eyes have been open this whole time, but he hasn’t taken in anything of what’s happening around him. Now he can see there are three or four medics there. One of them mutters something to Victor.

“We need to get up, Yuuri,” Victor says to him. “We need to get off the ice.”

Yuuri grits his teeth, nods. As bad as he’s hurting, he’s also mortified, dying to disappear from view of the hundreds of eyes on him, the thousands more that he knows are watching him on TV. Yuuri’s breath speeds up as the medics turn him on his back. He clutches his thigh, as if there’s any way to keep his knee still through the ordeal. Victor murmurs encouraging things to him, but Yuuri isn’t listening.

The next step is all on him. He takes a deep breath and holds it, then straightens to a sitting position, leaving Victor’s lap.

“That’s it,” Victor says, standing up next to him. He grabs one of Yuuri’s arms and a medic grabs the other. They count to three and lift Yuuri. Once he gets his left skate successfully underneath him, Yuuri pushes himself to standing. He grimaces and keeps his right leg bent, so his skate doesn’t touch the ice.

“You did so good, _solnyshko_ ,” Victor whispers as he shrugs his shoulders under Yuuri’s arm, supporting his weight. Another medic does the same on the other side. The audience applauds as the three of them make their way out of the rink, slowly, since Victor and the medic are in shoes.

Yuuri wants to help, but there’s nothing he can do.


	3. Email

 

* * *

_**@sukeota3sisters** @katyandreevna When the twitter account you "don't care about" has three times as many followers as you_

* * *

 

_Six Years Ago_

 

Later, in the hospital room, Yuuri is restless. Victor’s confiscated his phone. He also refuses to read Yuuri any headlines. It’s driving Yuuri crazy, because he doesn’t have anything else to do and he’s dying to know what people are saying about him.

Victor’s not doing anything to put his anxiety to rest. He just sits in a chair on the other side of the room and looks out the window, head in his hand.

There’s an IV hooked up to Yuuri’s arm, pumping in some lovely painkillers that are really helping him feel better, at least physically. Victor had tried to demand only drugs that complied with the ISU regulations, but Yuuri convinced him he wouldn’t be competing for a long, long time. Who cares, at this point? The next time the ISU drug tests him (if ever), any medication would long be out of his system. Might as well have the good stuff.

Yuuri wishes Victor would come over. He wishes Victor would pull the chair close to his bed and hold his hand. He wishes they could make each other feel better. But Victor has a faraway look in his eyes, deep in thought.

Finally, Yuuri decides to speak. “Victor?” He says, unsure.

“It should have been me,” Victor says, but doesn’t tear his eyes away from the window.

“What?”

“The injury. I’m the older one. It should have happened to me, not to you.”

Yuuri blinks. “That’s not really how it works.”

“I know,” Victor says impatiently, like Yuuri is missing the point here.

Yuuri waits for more of an explanation, but none comes. So they just sit in silence until there’s a knock at the door.

The doctor explains Yuuri will probably surgery to replace his ACL and repair the tear in his meniscus. They want to try physical therapy first, to see if they can fix it without surgery, but it’s a long shot. There’s only one thing Yuuri’s concerned with, though, and what the doctor says next isn’t what he wants to hear. It’ll probably take a full year for Yuuri to get even close to where he was before, physically. Maybe longer.

When the doctor leaves, silence overtakes the room again.

There’s a sinking feeling in Yuuri’s chest. He suspected this, of course. He knew it back when he was sprawled out on the ice. But to hear it confirmed from a doctor… it makes Yuuri feel helpless.

“Well,” he says finally. “I guess that’s it.”

Victor looks at him sharply. “What’s it?”

Yuuri shrugs. “Surgery. Rehabilitation. The end of my skating career.”

Victor’s shaking his head hard enough to give himself whiplash. “Not by a long shot,” he says.

Yuuri sighs. “Victor…”

“You’ll work as hard in physical therapy as you do in training. Then, if it comes down to it, I’ll find the best surgeon in Russia.”

“Victor.”

Victor’s pacing back and forth. “It’ll be tough, sure, but you’re an athlete, so you’ll bounce back more quickly than a normal person…”

“Victor!”

Victor finally turns to him, his face distraught. “What?” There’s desperation in his voice.

“Victor…” Yuuri gestures to his leg, elevated on some pillows. “It’s my right knee. My landing leg.”

Victor runs both hands through his hair. “People have come back from worse.”

Yuuri looks at him dubiously. “Like who?”

Victor stutters for words. “I… I can’t name them off the top of my head!”

Yuuri shifts on the bed. “Victor,” he says gently, wishing again that the other man was close enough that he could take his hand. “It’s okay. I almost retired a few months ago, anyway. I was ready to retire.”

“You don’t know what’ll happen,” Victor says firmly, as if trying to convince himself, too. “You can recover.”

“Not fully,” Yuuri argues. “I’ll never be back to where I was. And you know I won’t heal faster than a normal person because of all the wear and tear my knee’s been through.” Victor exhales, looks away. Yuuri keeps going, even though Victor doesn’t seem to want to listen. “Even if I could get back into competitive shape again, I’ll be a year older. My body will be that much weaker, even without the bad leg. Every practice will be a risk. Eventually I’ll just end up here again.”

“You can’t just give up!” Victor yells, so suddenly that it makes Yuuri jump.

Yuuri feels a twinge of annoyance. Victor’s not listening to him at all. “I’m not giving up,” he insists forcefully. “I’m hurt.”

Victor cringes at the edge in Yuuri’s tone. Then he clenches his jaw and stands up. “This isn’t over,” he says, then storms out of the room, leaving Yuuri alone on the hospital bed.

* * *

 

_Present Day_

 

That evening, Victor hurries home. Lishniy greets him eagerly, her curly black head pushing through the crack in the door the minute Victor unlocks it. He pushes her back and kneels down to her level before she can jump into him and knock him over. His doggie discipline techniques have become more and more relaxed over the years, so Lishniy’s manners need a little polishing.

“Hey, girl,” he greets. Lishniy licks his face enthusiastically. Victor stands and takes a few steps forward to a small table in his entryway. He runs his fingers over a small wooden box. _Hey, Makka_ , he thinks, giving the photo on the box a little smile. Lishniy barks at him, pulling his attention, then spins around by the front door, eager for their walk.

Victor looks longingly at his laptop before obliging. Yurio had talked him out of a phone call to Yuuri, but he hadn’t said anything against emailing him. Granted, Victor hadn’t asked, but that’s beside the point. Unfortunately, he has a responsibility to his overactive poodle first.

By the time he walks into the apartment a second time, he’s jittery, nerves spurred on by the chill in the outside air. Lishniy bounds into his empty apartment the instant Victor unhooks her leash, and Victor is right on her tail. Metaphorically, of course.

He slides in his desk chair and fires up his laptop. His inbox dings with a few new message notifications, but they can wait. Victor opens up a new email.

‘Dear Yuuri,’ he starts.

Victor stares at that for six minutes before hitting the delete button.

‘Yuuri-’ he types instead.

He uses the ‘undo’ and ‘redo’ buttons to switch back and fourth a few times. He settles on the first one and continues.

‘I talked to Yur’

No, no, wait. The second one was better. More distant. More appropriate.

…But was it _too_ distant, though?

It takes a full hour and a half, but finally Victor has an email he’s satisfied with.

‘Yuuri-  
I know it’s been a long time, but Yurio told me you were worried about the triplets. I’d like to apologize for Katya’s behavior. If you’d like, we can arrange a phone call to discuss it.  
All the best,  
Victor’

Yeah. Yeah, that was good. Casual. A little friendly.

Maybe ‘Dear Yuuri’ _was_ better after all…

In a panic, Victor pushes send with a yelp. And just like that, it’s too late to take back.

It’s nighttime in Japan, so there’s no chance for a reply anytime soon. Nothing to do but go about his business until he wakes up tomorrow.

He leans back in his seat, staring at his laptop, now illuminating the room with its glow, since the sun has gone down. He strokes Lishniy’s fur when she put her head in his lap. He wonders how Yuuri was doing, if his leg still causes him pain.

If he had ever forgiven Victor.

He reaches forward and closes his laptop screen, throwing the room into darkness.

Victor has never forgiven himself.

* * *

 

_Six Years Ago_

 

The weeks leading up to Worlds are torture for Yuuri. When they make it back to St. Petersburg, he’s pretty much confined to the couch. He can’t put any weight on his knee without immense pain and instant buckling. He spends his day wrapping, re-wrapping, icing, re-icing.

Physical therapy turns out to be the highlight of his days, the few times a week he gets out of the house. Victor helps him to the car, eases him down the stairs slowly, one step at time. He takes an active role in Yuuri’s recovery, learning all the exercises Yuuri can do at home. He intends to be Yuuri’s coach, even with the injury.

At least, that’s how it starts out, the first few times they go. Soon, though, Victor seems to grow bored of the therapy. He fiddles on his phone in a plastic chair by reception until he nods off. And things are about the same at home.

Victor’s thrown himself into his training. At least, that’s what Yuuri thinks he’s doing, since he seems to be spending more and more time at the rink. When he finally comes home, he examines Yuuri, walks Makkachin, and cooks for them. There’s not much time for anything else. Sometimes he falls asleep on the couch before eight.

It’s because of exhaustion, Yuuri knows. Victor gets up even earlier these days, runs with Makkachin before practice. He tells Yuuri he wants to win gold at Worlds, for both of them, but from what Yurio tells him, Victor’s a shadow of his old self even at the rink. Something’s just… off.

Yuuri wakes one night at 2:45 AM to find bright lights dancing on his wall. He turns over to investigate, careful not to jostle his knee too much. Victor’s back is to him, and he’s on his phone, oblivious to Yuuri’s movements. Victor’s head is propped up on his elbow, and Yuuri can peek through to see his own practice sessions, the ones he sent Victor when he was gone for Europeans.

“Victor?” Yuuri says sleepily as he watches past-Yuuri land a quad loop.

Victor startles at the interruption and turns to Yuuri. “Look,” he says.

“What?” Yuuri blinks blearily at the screen.

“Right there!” He rewinds the video, plays the last few seconds again. “You were shaky on your landing.”

“I don’t see anything.”

Victor scoffs. He exits out of that file, pulls up another. “It’s on all of them. Every one.”

Yuuri yawns. “You’re imagining things. Go back to sleep.”

He reaches into Victor’s hand and plucks out the phone, then sets it on his own bedside table, where Victor can’t get at it. Still, the next morning, Yuuri suspects Victor stayed awake a lot longer, judging by the bags under his eyes.

The second time he catches Victor poring over the videos, Yuuri takes the phone without a word.

The third time, Yuuri rolls over and goes back to sleep.

He’d be better equipped to handle it, Yuuri thinks, if he wasn’t stuck on the couch all the time. In the beginning, he tries to keep himself busy. He catches up on his fan mail. He downloads a program on his laptop to improve his Russian. He teaches Makkachin three new tricks.

But it’s not enough to fill the mountains of free time he now has. He has no friends in Russia, which doesn’t help. Yurio comes over every now and again, but he’s busy with his own training. Yuuri Facetimes Phichit, too, but he runs into the same problem. Phichit is training for Worlds, plus there’s the four hour time difference to contend with.

The loneliness grows and boredom eats at him. He’s restless, lethargic, and quick to annoy.

And he has lots and lots of time to think.

He can’t help but notice all the ‘firsts’ that he’d been hoping to experience in their relationship have become different things. ‘First time they fall asleep on the couch together during a movie’ is now ‘first time Victor forgets to kiss him goodbye when he leaves.’ ‘First time one finishes the other’s sentence’ is now ‘first full sentence he’s said to Victor all day.’ And so on.

Yuuri cries more often. Mostly when Victor’s at the rink, but not always. When he’s home, Victor pats his shoulder and whispers about how things will be all right after the surgery, just you wait.

But Victor doesn’t understand. And he’s spread so thin these days, Yuuri doesn’t want to add to his stress. Victor’s already doing everything around the house, providing for Yuuri physically and financially. It doesn’t feel right to ask for emotional support.

When it becomes clear the physical therapy isn’t helping, he begins researching surgeons in Japan. His family can take on the burden of a post-surgery ice skater and Victor can focus on his career. Just for a little while.

The first time Yuuri sees Victor skate again is on TV at Worlds. He immediately sees what Yurio’s been talking about. Victor isn’t skating like he used to. There’s no sparkle there, nothing special.

Yuuri can’t help but feel like it’s his fault. He’s been a leech to Victor, sucking out all of his joy and… and… Victorness.

Victor wins silver at Worlds. He looks utterly disappointed at the kiss and cry.

Later, at a press conference, he announces his retirement.

When Yuuri gets over the shock, anger is what’s left over. Victor didn’t talk to him about this. He had never mentioned to Yuuri that he was planning to retire. Didn’t ask Yuuri’s opinion.

Shouldn’t he have? Isn’t that how a partnership’s supposed to work? You ask the other person before you’re going to make a big life decision.

Victor Nikiforov. His childhood hero. Retiring because of Yuuri. Settling for silver.

Because of Yuuri.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun little way I got Lishniy's name-- 'lishniy' in Russian means excess, extra, redundant, spare... typing these out, I'm just now realizing that seems like Lishniy was named as a replacement for Makka... oops.
> 
> In reality, I named her to poke fun at Victor fans who say he's "extra." I even found a Wikipedia entry on 'líshniy chelovék' or 'the Superfluous Man' , a Russian literary device. I'm not saying it fits Victor perfectly, but they seem to share a few characteristics.


	4. Breakup

* * *

_**@katyandreevna** Getting fitted for next season's SP costume! TFW your competition's costumes are still made by their mom. #youknowwhoyouare #thisisntnovicesanymore_

* * *

 

_Six Years Ago_

 

A few weeks after Worlds, Yuuri announces his intention to get his surgery in Japan.

“What?” Victor yelps, sitting up from his place on the couch. He puts the book he was reading down on the coffee table. “Why?”

“I think it’ll be easier for my family to take care of me.”

Victor looks stricken. “I can take care of you.”

Yuuri holds back what he’s actually thinking: that Victor hasn’t been taking much care of him so far.

“My family has more time, though,” he says diplomatically. “There’s more of them, so they can split the burden.”

“What are you talking about? They have an inn to run.” Victor throws up his hands in exasperation. “I have nothing but time! I’m retired now.”

Yuuri sighs internally. “You’re still at the rink every day, though.”

“Yakov’s paying me to teach lessons.”

Yuuri cocks his head to the side. “All day long?”

His tone comes out as mocking, or maybe a challenge, even though he didn’t intend it to. Victor’s eyes grow hard at the insinuation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Yuuri sighs out loud this time. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“No,” Victor says. “It wasn’t nothing. What are you trying to say, that I spend too much time at the rink? I have to make money, Yuuri.”

“I know.” Yuuri stares at a spot on the carpet, tense.

“Then what? What’s the problem?”

Yuuri realizes he’s not going to silence his way out of this one, so there’s nothing else to do but answer Victor’s question. He steels himself for the oncoming fight and answers evenly. “You say you can take care of me, but every time you walk into the room, you can’t even look at me. You’re using the rink to hide.”

Victor’s forehead creases with stress. “You think this is easy for me, Yuuri? You think its easy, knowing your career is over and I’m the reason you got hurt? Seeing you on this couch, with your leg like that…” He gestures to Yuuri’s knee, bound tight in an Ace bandage. “It’s a constant reminder of what I did to you!”

Yuuri opens his mouth to argue, but Victor’s not done yet. He stands up and begins pacing.

“I come home after botching all my jumps at practice, and you’re here, full of wasted potential! I felt like quitting, too, Yuuri. I tried to quit once but you motivated me to keep trying. Why can’t you motivate yourself?”

This again. “Those are two totally different situations,” Yuuri says. “You retired the first time because you were out of inspiration. I’m out of a knee. You can’t just get a knee back, good as new, after it’s been injured.”

“You see what I mean?” Victor demands. “I train at the rink all day. I get yelled at by Yakov. I can’t perform the way I want to perform, and then I come home and have to deal with this… negativity.” Victor motions to Yuuri, immobile on the couch.

“Well, excuse me,” Yuuri says, his words dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t realize my debilitating injury was such an inconvenience to you.”

They glare at each other for a few moments before Victor spins on his heel. “I’m taking Makkachin for a walk. I can’t talk to you right now.”

“Fine,” Yuuri says coolly.

He fumes when Victor walks out the door. Fumes, and then gradually begins to cry, because fuming isn’t making him feel any better.

Then again, these days, crying doesn’t tend to make him feel any better either.

Yuuri is miserable. Has been miserable for weeks.

Victor is miserable, too.

It was all because of his stupid knee.

No, he realizes suddenly. It had started before his knee. In tiny, unnoticeable ways, it had started even before that. Maybe when Victor won bronze at Nationals.

Some athletes thrive under pressure. Victor does; Yuuri does not. When Victor was just Yuuri’s coach, not a competitor, he seemed to understand that. But somehow, once he started competing, everything changed. When Victor laid the pressure on himself, he also started laying it on Yuuri.

_I expect at least five gold medals._

_You get me that gold, Yuuri._

_I’m sure you could hold on for one more Olympic Games._

_If you want the gold, we should keep the quad._

There were countless examples. Somehow, somewhere along the way, Victor had stopped being motivating and started pushing. Pushing too far.

When Victor comes back with Makkachin, Yuuri's tears have stopped. He feels numb.

Victor sits back down on the loveseat opposite Yuuri's couch, his elbows in his knees. He looks positively glum. Neither of them say anything for a while.

Finally Victor speaks. “Can I ask you a question?”

His voice is lined with defeat. Yuuri clears his throat in an attempt to clear the graveliness that usually comes with crying. “Yes.”

Victor looks up, meets his eyes dead on. “Do you blame me? For your knee?”

Instinctively, Yuuri wants to deny it. But Victor deserves an honest answer, so he thinks about it. He thinks back to the Grand Prix Final, the silver medal that was the pinnacle of his career, how he'd wanted to retire. He thinks of the little voice in his head during the free skate that fateful day at Four Continents, how his gut was telling him not to include the flip, and Victor stood on the sidelines and urged him to do it anyway.

He wants to lie. Wants to spare Victor’s feelings. But he owes him the truth. “Yes,” he breathes.

Pain contorts Victor’s face, but he doesn't look surprised. He looks at the ground and nods slowly.

Yuuri studies him. “Do you blame me?” He finally asks, turning Victor’s question back on him. “For the bronzes? Because I forced you out of retirement?”

A few emotions flash across Victor's face, but Yuuri can only recognize one of them: relief. Yuuri knows the answer before Victor whispers, “Yes.”

Yuuri nods, too. A wave of sadness washes over him. They can both feel what's going to happen.

Yuuri starts it, because he doesn’t think Victor’s brave enough. “I think we're holding each other back. We have two different ideas of the way things should go, and because we disagree, we can’t move forward.”

Victor sighs, clearly hurting. “Yeah.”

“And I don't think holding grudges ever works out very well for a relationship.”

“Do you think we could get past it?” Victor asks. “With counseling, or something?”

Yuuri considers, trying to be pragmatic, even though tears are running down his cheeks and his hands are shaking. “I don't know. Even if you say you'll get over it, I think I'll always wonder. Every fight, I'll think, ‘Is this because I caused his bad season?’”

Victor opens his mouth, perhaps to protest, but stops himself.

“And think about how the next year will go,” Yuuri continues. “You're retired, and I'll be on the couch, recovering… it'll be just like the last few weeks. Do you really think you can go through a whole year like the last few weeks?”

There are tears in Victor’s eyes, too. “I can't help but think we'll be having this fight again.”

“Me too.” There was finality in the air. “Me too.”

* * *

 

_Present Day_

 

Usually Lishniy wakes Victor up so he can take her outside, but this morning, Victor wakes of his own accord. He takes some pleasure in rousing his poodle, poking and prodding her as revenge for her normal ruthless alarm clock behavior.

In response, she takes her time doing her business outside. She sniffs every bush. Twice.

By the time Victor has her back in the apartment, enjoying her kibble, he’s practically vibrating with anticipation.

What if Yuuri didn’t answer?

What if he did?

What if Yuuri said, ‘shut up, you jerk, and never talk to me again’?

Victor doesn’t think he’d be able to survive.

He powers on his laptop and opens his email.

One new message.

From Yuuri.

Victor lets out a rather girlish squeak that Katya would tease him for. He fumbles with the touchpad and hastily opens the email. It says:

‘Don’t worry, I’ll have a talk with the triplets.’

That’s it. No ‘Hi, Victor!’ No ‘How have you been?’ No ‘Even though it didn’t work out between us, you’ve never stopped being my idol!’

Victor visibly deflates.

It’s not a rude message, of course. Yuuri wouldn’t send anything rude. He wasn’t even rude when they were breaking up. But the email has a note of cold formality. It makes Victor’s heart sink all the way down to the seat of the swivel chair.

Somewhere deep, deep in the hard drive of his laptop are the videos of Yuuri skating in the weeks leading up to his accident. Victor had to bury them in some untitled folder with a password to keep from torturing himself. It doesn’t matter. He’s watched them so many times before that he can visualize them even now, more than a year since the last time he’s seen them.

He can clearly see every jump, every spin. Especially that one triple axel, where Yuuri almost couldn’t push into his jump hard enough to get enough rotations in. And that quad Salchow, where the strain of the landing made his knee quiver almost imperceptibly. Or any of the six other instances that should have tipped Victor off to the weakness in Yuuri’s leg. They are permanently etched in his brain.

The one video he refuses to watch is the one that’s most easily accessible. That performance at Worlds, where Yuuri’s leg had finally given out on him, buckling once and for all under the weight of his landing. It’s only one quick YouTube search away.

But Victor had lived through that one. He doesn’t want to revisit it.

He dresses in his baggiest sweatpants. He drags his feet all the way to the rink. He laces up his skates, but leaves his guards on and drapes himself over the boards.

“What’s wrong with you?” Katya asks.

Victor sighs heavily and imparts some life knowledge on his young pupil. “Sometimes, when you’re an adult, everything can be going along just fine, and then one little bad thing happens, and that’s all it takes for the world to end.”

Perhaps he’s being a little dramatic, but that’s honestly what it feels like. Yesterday, everything was perfect. He was Victor, coach of Katya Andreevna, who will take home a gold at Junior Worlds this year. It would bring him both fame and pride, and it would show the world he could be more than just a first-class figure skater. He could mold young minds, shape talent.

Then the email from Yuuri came, and his dark past came flooding back to haunt him. And Yuuri, the person who had made him happy and subsequently broken his heart, wasn’t interested in speaking with him.

Katya is nodding. “Like trigonometry homework. I know exactly what you mean.”

Victor peers up at her through his bangs. “Yes, Katya. Just like trigonometry homework.”

She gives him a sunny grin and pulls him to standing with a strand of his hair. “Well, cheer up. It’s a big day. Grand Prix assignments are coming out.”

“Oh,” Victor plasters on a happy smile for Katya’s sake. “That’s right. How exciting!”

It seems to fool her because she dives into her workout with an unusual amount of enthusiasm. But her reminder has just made Victor’s day even worse.

Two of the triplets are competing in Juniors this year. That’s two new competitors for Katya they could run into at any event. If Katya and the triplets share any competitions, Yuuri and Victor will be in the same building for the first time in…

And after today’s email, it’s clear Yuuri’s not interested in talking. What will they do, then? Avoid eye contact? Pretend the other doesn’t exist? It sounds like torture!

 _Get a grip_ , he tells himself. The email was literally one sentence long. It’s almost impossible to correctly infer any information about Yuuri’s feelings based on one sentence alone.

Then again, doesn’t one communicate more in the words one _doesn’t_ say? And Yuuri didn’t say a lot, so what is Victor supposed to think?

By the time Katya skates over, picks up her phone, and navigates to the ISU news site, Victor is silently begging, _pleading_ , to every god he can think of to spare him the humiliation for just one more season. Please, please let the Nishigoris be assigned to different events than Katya.

“It’s up!” Katya cries, scrolling furiously on her phone. Victor follows suit on his own.

Katya Andreevna is assigned to JGP Canada. Axel Nishigori is assigned to JGP Canada.

Katya Andreenva is assigned to the JGP Russia. Loop Nishigori is assigned to the JGP Russia.

“Oh, come on!” Victor exclaims.

“This can’t be happening,” Katya mumbles at the same time. “ _Both_ events? I have to skate against those brats _twice_? What are the odds?”

 _Yes_ , Victor thinks spitefully at all the gods he just spent the last few minutes praying to. _What_ are _the odds?_   What he actually says out loud is: “Don’t call them brats.”

She looks up at him in dismay. “Victor, what am I going to do?”

He looks back at her, reminds himself he has a job to do. “You’re going to keep training. And you’re going to beat them so badly, they won’t be able to say anything bad about you.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, done with the time jumps! From now on there will be no 'present day' label because... you won't need it. It's all present day from here on out!


	5. JGP Canada Part 1

* * *

_**@sukeota3sisters** Good luck to all the skaters today, especially @katyandreevna! #howdoyoushowsarcasmontheinternet #Axelsjuniordebut_

* * *

 

Trouble between Katya and the Nishigoris had not ceased in the weeks leading up to JGP Canada, but it had not escalated, either, so Victor supposes that’s a good thing. He had been monitoring Katya’s Twitter account like some sort of crazed stalker, and the triplets’, too, but so far, nothing had gotten out of hand. There had been a few tiny comments back and forth, but nothing to the level of ‘Lutz the Klutz’.

It was nothing to email Yuuri about, but the problem was definitely still there. Victor had decided the best course of action to take at this competition was to remember his primary role: coach. He was here to coach Katya and keep her out of trouble with the triplets.

And if they fought here, in Canada, well… then it might be necessary for he and Yuuri to step in. As a team. No, not as a team. Just as fellow coaches. Fellow coaches worried about their skaters. Yeah. That’s it.

It doesn’t stop Victor from checking his hair in his cell phone camera in the cab on the way to the official hotel, though. As a coach, he has to get Katya checked in, settled, and fed. The same thing Coach Yuuri would be doing for Axel Nishigori. And if Coach Victor and Coach Yuuri happen to be at the same place at the same time… Victor flattens down his bangs again.

“What are you doing?” Katya asks, looking up from her own phone.

 _Play it cool._ “The plane always makes my hair static-y.”

“Oh.” Katya sets down her purse and digs around in her bag, producing a travel-sized bottle of hairspray. “Here you go. Same thing happens to me.”

Victor looks down at the bottle in surprise. “Oh, thanks.” Sometimes, it’s nice to be around a teenage girl carrying a purse. Now his hair will smell like papayas.

Katya hides a smile and turns back to her phone.

When they reach the lobby, Victor’s adrenaline is pumping. Yuuri could be anywhere. The whole time he’s checking in to their rooms, his eyes are darting around. When they pile their bags into the elevator, Victor dreads the opening of the doors. It’s impossible for him to enjoy his dinner because the check-in desk is in clear view from their table.

Victor has half a mind to text Yuuri, just because the anticipation was driving him crazy. He could try, but the chances of Yuuri texting him back are slim. He doesn’t even know if Yuuri still has the same phone number.

After he pays the check, Katya rises and stretches. “You’ve been acting weird tonight,” she says. She puts a hand on her hip and her voice takes on a teasing tone. “Are you nervous for me?”

Victor stands up quickly. “Why would I be nervous? You’re the best skater here.”

Katya smiles, accepts the praise, and lets it go.

When Victor finally makes it back to his room, he collapses facedown on the bed. No Yuuri. He is relieved and disappointed all at once.

He picks up his phone. Maybe he should text Yuuri.

No. No. Remember the email.

Before he does something stupid, he navigates to his contact list and calls Chris. In his haste, he doesn’t stop to check what time it is in Switzerland and he’s greeted with a very groggy-sounding, “Mmmrrph.”

“Chris,” Victor sighs. “I need your help. I’m a mess.”

“Hold on,” Chris mumbles softly. Victor can hear the rustling of sheets and deduces that Chris is sneaking out so as not to wake up his husband. “That’s not news, by the way.”

“What?”

“That you’re a mess.”

“Shut up.”

“So.” Chris sounds more awake now. “What’s going on? Did you see Yuuri?”

Victor rolls over in bed and slings an arm over his eyes. “No.”

Chris gives a long sigh. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait, wait. I need your help. You still talk to him, don’t you?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Any advice? Like, would he want me to go up and say hi to him, or…?”

“I don’t know. We don’t talk about you.”

Victor gives a little pained noise.

Chris goes on. “Listen. I think you’re overthinking this. You’re two adults, and the past is the past. It’s been six years, for crying out loud. You’re not still mad, are you?”

“Of course not,” Victor scoffs.

“I’m sure Yuuri’s not, either. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I don’t know,” Victor says, picking at a stray thread on the comforter. “The breakup was terrible on both of us. Neither of us were happy, at the end.”

“Yes, so I heard,” Chris says, his voice echoing a little on speakerphone.

“He could hate me.”

Chris laughs. “Yuuri? After six years? I doubt it.”

Victor huffs, annoyed that Chris is brushing him off. “You don’t know! You said he never talks about me!”

“Okay, Victor, listen.” Chris’s voice takes on a serious tone. “I’m your best friend. It’s my job to tell you when you’re being ridiculous.”

“And?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

Victor groans, buries his face in a pillow, and says, “Who asked you?” Unfortunately, it’s too muffled to understand, so Chris keeps talking.

“I want you to turn off your phone, put on a movie, and zone out until it’s time to go to bed. Things will look better in the morning. Can you do that for me?”

Since he’s still face-deep in his pillow, Victor just makes a general noise of assent.

“And Victor?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t call me in the middle of the night for stupid shit.”

 

* * *

 

Chris turns out to be right. The morning brings clarity, and by the time Victor shows up to the rink for the first day of JGP Canada, he’s shaken off all feelings of uncertainty about his ex-boyfriend. After all, Yuuri is just another coach and fellow ex-skater, one who just so happened to be Victor’s fiancé once. No big deal.

Victor puts his hand on the small of Katya’s back and leads her into the building. Her posture is stick-straight and there’s a determined look on her face. Victor’s not entirely sure which one of them is mirroring the other’s confidence.

Before they get to the locker room, Victor stops her and kneels down to look her in the eye. Katya raises an eyebrow. Pep talks are saved for the ice.

Victor fixes her gaze and says firmly, “Do not talk to Axel Nishigori. I don’t care what she says to you. We don’t need any drama today.”

Katya reluctantly nods.

“I mean it,” Victor continues. “Eyes on the prize. A gold medal will be a better insult than anything you have to say.”

“Okay,” she says, and narrows her eyes in concentration.

Victor stands up. “That’s my girl.” He tugs playfully on the end of her ponytail. Then she disappears into the locker room and Victor makes his way rinkside.

Yuuri is nowhere to be seen. Victor gets to work unpacking his bag, filling up a water bottle for Katya, refilling his poodle tissue holder (the same brown one he’s always had, in Makkachin’s memory). He talks to a few other coaches, waves to some fans in the gathering audience, poses for a picture.

It reminds him of something he hadn’t considered until now: his and Yuuri’s reunion would be very public. Not only have they not seen each other in six years, they haven’t appeared in public together since then either. They had been a pretty famous skating couple with a fairy tale love story. Now, waiting for Katya to finish putting on her costume, Victor can feel hundreds of eyes on him. He taps his foot nervously.

“Victor! Hey, Victor!”

Oh, shit. He knows that voice.

“Victor!”

Victor looks up at the bottom of the stands and sees Jean-Jacques Leroy leaning over the railing. He also catches sight of several cell phone cameras pointed at him, so he puts on a big smile.

“JJ,” he greets, reaching up to shake the man’s hand. JJ has to squat down to manage it, since the floor he stands on is just level with Victor’s chin. “What are you doing here?” Even though JJ lives in Canada, Victor is still surprised to see him here, at a Junior event.

“Just showing Emmeline what she has to look forward to,” JJ motions behind him, where his wife is holding a little girl around four years old. “Three generations of champions, baby!”

Victor blatantly ignores JJ’s bragging and waves at the two of them. “Hey, Isabella.”

“Good to see you again, Victor.”

“Bella,” JJ says, “Bring her over here. Let her say hi to the only skater good enough to beat King JJ.”

Well, that’s definitely a lie. But as JJ’s little girl walks up beside her father, her face bright with adoration, Victor decides to let it slide.

Emmeline presses against the cast iron bars that line the stands. She looks far more like her mother than JJ, small and petite and beautiful. Victor smiles. “She’s got the build for a skater.”

“I’m her coach,” JJ announces proudly. “Although we really only skate in circles so far.”

Victor laughs, and sees the plushie gripped in the child’s tiny fingers. “Are you going to throw that for one of the skaters, Emmeline?” he asks. The little girl nods, hugging the little pink piglet close to her chest. “You make sure to throw it for Katya Andreevna, okay? Can you do that for me?” Emmeline nods again and when Victor beams at her, he’s no longer faking it.

She runs back to her mom and starts babbling in French about how the piglet is _special_ and she needs to throw it for a _special_ skater. Victor can hardly contain his laughter. He backs up a few paces, thinking the interaction is over, when JJ yells, “Yuuri! Yuuri Katsuki, over here!” He’s waving furiously at a point somewhere behind Victor.

Victor feels all the blood fall from his face all the way down to his toes. He spins on his heel, feeling a little dizzy.

And there’s Yuuri. He’s digging through a sports bag not very far away, easily within earshot. His dark hair hangs down, covering his face, but when JJ yells again, he looks up and Victor’s breath hitches.

He looks exactly the same as Victor remembers, like he hasn’t aged a day. He’s wearing his glasses, but Victor’s close enough to see his brown eyes focus on JJ, then drop to land on Victor. Yuuri’s mouth falls open slightly.

Victor’s ready to die.

And then JJ yells Yuuri’s name again and time resumes its normal pace. Yuuri glances around, perhaps to try and find a way out, but it’s obvious he’s seen JJ, so he can’t ignore them now. He reluctantly straightens and makes his way over. Victor suddenly finds the ground very interesting.

“Look at this, everybody!” JJ’s yelling to the crowd. “This is history, right here!”

Victor can sense Yuuri come up beside him, and he glances up. Yuuri is avoiding eye contact. Victor can’t stand the tension, so he says, “Hey, Yuuri.”

Yuuri looks fleetingly in his direction. “Hey, Victor.”

Hearing his name come from Yuuri’s mouth makes Victor’s heart jump into his throat.

“Okay!” JJ exclaims. He turns around and starts climbing over the metal railing that’s supposed to separate the audience from from the skaters’ area beside the rink. “Let’s get a picture, for old time’s sake!”

“JJ, no, you don’t have a badge…” Yuuri protests halfheartedly, like he already knows it’s pointless.

“It’s okay,” JJ says. He’s made it to the other side. “They know me here.”

He considers the distance to the ground and jumps. Victor and Yuuri take involuntary steps back, clearing some room in case he falls on the landing. JJ’s training serves him well, though, and he lands perfectly on his feet. He gathers each of them under one arm and looks up to his wife. Victor glances around and sees the TV cameras are trained on them.

“Babe! How do we look?”

Isabella flashes them a thumbs up with her free hand, then switches her phone from portrait to landscape, probably taking several photos. Around her, dozens of other people are doing the same. More audience members are making their way down the staircase behind her, trying to get a closer angle. Victor is relieved Emmeline has cemented herself to her mother’s leg because it’s getting pretty crowded.

Seeing Emmeline reminds Victor of the little fib JJ told earlier. He can’t help but needle the Canadian. “Say, JJ. Earlier you told your daughter I was the only skater who could beat you in competition. You must have forgotten about Yuuri. I’m sure you’ll set the record straight, right?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Victor sees JJ’s expression fall slack. He hears Yuuri chuckle lightly from JJ’s other side. Victor hopes someone uploads a picture of this very moment. He’ll print it out and put it on his fridge.

Under the stands, a security guard shows up, but waits until the three of them are done posing to approach them. He’s wearing the face of a parent who’s caught their kid with one hand in the cookie jar.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m leaving.” JJ says, regaining his composure. “See you later, lovebirds! Good luck today!” He dashes off.

Victor and Yuuri glance at each other. Victor’s pretty sure they both look as uncomfortable as JJ looked a second ago.

“Um,” Yuuri says, looking away.

“So…” Victor can’t think of anything to say. “That happened.”

“Yeah. Oh!” Yuuri looks immensely relieved to see the girls emerging from the locker room. “I’d better go.”

“Oh, right,” Victor says. “Me too.” But Yuuri doesn’t seem to hear, taking Axel by the hand and dragging her far, far away from Katya and Victor.

Katya, walking on skate guards, watches them hurry away, then looks at the dispersing crowd in the stands behind Victor. “Uh, what just happened?”

Victor shakes his head. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll read about it online.”


	6. JGP Canada Part 2

* * *

_**@katyandreevna** BAM, that's how you do it! Take notes, @sukeota3sisters_

* * *

 

Victor follows Katya into the hotel later that evening and almost plows her down when she stops short. She’s wearing a backpack with an elastic bungie laced on the back of it, which she has used to harness the little stuffed piglet securely to the pack.

Earlier, he had thought it was adorable, both how Emmeline’s plushie happened to be the one that caught Katya’s eye on her way off the ice, and the care and creativity Katya used to bring it back to the hotel with her. Now, though, the little pig’s stuffed hooves have been forcefully buried into Victor’s stomach, and the piglet doesn’t seem so cute anymore.

Victor backs up a step and looks around to see what startled the fourteen-year-old. Yuuri is standing in the middle of the lobby, talking to Yuuko. All three triplets are lounging on chairs, waiting for the adults to finish their chat. Victor hadn’t known that Yuuko and the other two triplets had come all the way to Canada with Yuuri and Axel, but since it’s Axel’s Junior debut, it makes sense.

Victor puts a hand on Katya’s shoulder. “Be a good sport,” he advises. “Nobody likes a sore winner.” Katya had finished the day in first, but there was still the Free Skate tomorrow. Axel ended up in fifth out of twelve skaters, which wasn’t too bad for her first Junior event.

Katya looks up at him. “Didn’t you show up to a podium ceremony in a costume covered entirely in gold sequins? And then you skated your exhibition to ‘24K Magic’ by Bruno Mars?”

One corner of Victor’s lips quirks up in amusement. The press had hated it because his medal didn’t stand out at all when it hung around his neck. Bad for pictures, they had complained. “Do as I say, not as I do.”

They walk into the lobby together. Victor is debating whether to pretend he doesn’t see them when Yuuko looks over.

“Victor!” she cries, rushing over and pulling him into a hug. Victor always liked Yuuko. He had never been the kind of person to have many girl friends, but Yuuri and Yuuko had been so close that it hadn’t been long before she and Victor were hanging out, too.

“Yuuko,” he greets, hugging her warmly. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” she says breathlessly, bouncing back on the balls of her feet. She turns to Katya. “Katya Andreevna. I’m Nishigori Yuuko, the triplets’ mother. You skated beautifully today.”

“Thank you,” Katya says. They shake hands politely.

Victor’s not sure Yuuko knows about the online feud between the girls, and Yuuko doesn’t say anything.

“Axel skated well, too,” he says to Yuuko and Yuuri. He tries to aim the compliment in the general direction of the triplets. They’re all wearing their official JSF jackets, so they’re nearly impossible to tell apart.

“Thank you.” Yuuri gives a formal little bow that nearly breaks Victor’s heart.

“How’s Yurio doing?” Yuuko asks eagerly.

Although Victor launches into conversation with Yuuko, his eyes keep darting back to Yuuri. He can’t help but notice how Yuuri stands with his weight on his left leg, even swinging his right every once in a while. Does his knee still cause him pain? Or is he just tired of standing?

Beside him, Katya’s also restless, shifting her weight from foot to foot as the adults catch up. Yuuko keeps Victor talking longer than he expects, and it’s not until he hears a shriek that he even realizes Katya has left his side to sit down on one of the lobby’s couches.

Everyone turns to Katya. She’s taken off her backpack to sit down and is busy wrestling the stuffed pig from the bungie cords. When she finally pulls it free, she has a horrified look on her face.

“Katya?” Victor asks.

Slowly, she turns the pig around. It’s face is smeared with black marker. Eyebrows have been added to make it look angry. Buck teeth poke out from underneath it’s smile. Devil horns have been added, and two dark circles grace its cheeks.

Everyone looks at the pig. Yuuri gives a soft, “oh.”

Suddenly, Katya leaps to her feet. “It was them!” she yells, pointing a finger at the triplets.

One of them jumps up. “Was not!” she yells right back.

And then all four girls are shouting at each other, their voices echoing in the hotel lobby.

Yuuko immediately goes into Pissed Off Mom mode and grabs the triplets by the collars of their jackets. A violent backwards yank chokes them into silence.

When they’re a safe distance away from Katya, Yuuko lets go and frisks the triplets, patting them down more thoroughly than airport security.

“What the heck, Mom?” one of the triplets protests. “Don’t you trust us?”

“When would we have even had time?” another asks.

Yuuko finds a Sharpie in one of their jacket pockets and holds it up accusingly. The triplets look nervous.

“Upstairs,” Yuuko says through gritted teeth. “Now.”

The three of them march dutifully to the elevators, Yuuko at their heels.

Yuuri mutters a quick apology and moves to follow them, but Victor reaches out to gently grasp his arm. “Are you sure we shouldn’t talk about them? Sit them all down, maybe?”

Yuuri looks stunned, glances down out Victor’s hand, and Victor immediately releases him. After a moment, Yuuri nods as if nothing happened. “Maybe that would be the best thing to do.”

* * *

 

Victor talks to the front desk and secures one of their spare conference rooms. He and Katya, dressed in jeans now, sit on one side of the table. Katya holds the besmirched pig miserably.

Victor tries to think of something to say to cheer her up, or give her some advice. But he’s already told her several times not to engage with the triplets, and things haven’t gotten any better. He doesn’t know what else to say.

He could use some advice. Under the table, his leg bounces with nervous energy and he doesn’t know why. They’re here for the girls, he reminds himself. That’s it. What’s the worst that could happen?

Yuuri knocks softly on the door, then opens it. The triplets file in one after another, each dressed in a different color hoodie. Their fashion choices haven’t changed much since they were six, apparently.

The table is long enough that they can all sit on one side. Yuuri sits as far away from Victor as possible, all the way on the other end. Victor wonders if that was intentional.

When they’re all seated, Victor takes a deep breath. He may as well get the ball rolling. “Okay,” he says, smiling across the table. His gaze is met with three identical scowls. Yuuko probably really railed into the triplets, if her face when she took them upstairs was any indication. They don’t seem too happy to be in this room right now. “Thanks for coming, you guys.”

“Not like we had much of a choice,” the blue one mumbles. If Victor was being totally honest, he’d admit that he’d never really bothered to learn which triplet was which when he lived in Hasetsu. They were only six at the time, and they all seemed to have the same personality. They were at the ice rink a lot, and they kind of slinked around together like a pack of hyenas. There was never any need for Victor to address just one of them.

A little bit brash, perhaps, but he’d had other things on his mind back then.

Victor keeps the smile on his face. “Nonetheless,” he goes on, “It’s good to see you. I can’t believe how big you three have gotten.”

The pink one narrows her eyes. “That’s usually what happens when you’re not around for a long period of time,” she says. “Things change.”

Victor feels his smile drop a little. He remembers the triplets had a little bit of an attitude when they were little, and it only seems to have amplified with age.

“Loop,” Yuuri scolds. “Don’t be rude.”

“We’re not here to talk about that,” Victor says, trying to get control of the conversation. “We’re here to talk about your behavior.”

“Yes,” Yuuri agrees. “It’s completely inappropriate.” He glares at the triplets. Victor feels a sense of camaraderie, with the two of them on the same side. “The ISU may get involved if it gets any worse than this.”

Victor nods. “They take this kind of thing seriously. You know what happened the last time there was a nasty feud between skaters.”

Katya looks up at him curiously. “What happened?”

“Someone got _stabbed_!” the blue triplet exclaims, scandalized.

Katya’s mouth drops open.

“Not stabbed,” Victor hastily corrects. “Just attacked.”

“That doesn’t sound real!” Katya leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. “That sounds like some sort of bad movie.”

“We’re getting off topic,” Yuuri says. “The point is, if the ISU sees you behaving in an unsportsmanlike way, they could disqualify all of you from the Grand Prix series. Is that what you want?”

All of the girls fall silent, looking at the table.

Victor nods in satisfaction. “Now. When did all this start?”

It’s the wrong question to ask. The compliant aura that Yuuri managed to achieve instantly dissolves and all the girls start talking over one another.

Victor frowns. He’s obviously not as good at this as Yuuri.

“Stop, stop!” he yells, trying to get order once again.

“ _They_ started it,” Katya pleads with Victor. “They called my skating ‘clunky and lacking feeling’ on their blog.”

“It’s called an editorial,” the pink triplet—Loop, was it?— argues. “We critique all the skaters!”

“Then you probably haven’t made many friends in the Junior division.” Katya sneers.

“I told you,” Loop says to the blue one. “I told you she’s nasty. What do you expect? Victor picked her! He wouldn’t know a good skater if they were wearing six gold medals!”

Victor blinks. “Huh?”

“Girls, that’s enough!” Yuuri snaps, glaring at them.

“What?” the purple one shrugs at Yuuri. “We’re on your side, Yuuri.”

Yuuri shakes his head. “You guys, there is no ‘my side’ here.”

“Better be careful, Katya,” The purple one continues. “If you fall and get hurt, Victor will leave you and find someone else to coach.”

Victor fixes his eyes on Yuuri. There’s no smile on Victor’s face anymore. He’s stunned.

“Okay!” Yuuri stands up quickly, his chair clattering angrily against the floor. “I think that’s enough for today. This was clearly a bad idea.” His face is beet red, and he turn on the triplets with a look of fury that Victor’s never seen. “Girls. Go back to your mother.

The triplets, to their credit, cower a little under Yuuri’s glare. Victor can’t really blame them. He kind of wants to cower too. Instead, he just stands up and walks around the table, Katya trailing behind him.

When the triplets are out of the room, Yuuri turns to him. “I’m sorry, Victor. Sorry, Katya.” He nods briefly to her before turning back to Victor. “They were so young when they last saw you. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Victor shakes off his shock. “It’s okay,” he says, trying to put some sincerity in his voice. Even to him, it sounds strained. “I don’t really take the opinions of thirteen-year-olds seriously.”

Next to him Katya laughs. “That’s absolutely true,” she tells Yuuri. Oops. Victor forgot she was standing there.

Yuuri smiles kindly at her, then frowns at Victor. “I don’t know where they heard those things. I promise, I don’t say things like that when I talk about you.” He bows in apology.

Victor blinks a few times, processing. “You talk about me?”

Yuuri straightens suddenly, the tips of his ears going red in a completely different way than earlier. “Excuse me!” he says quickly, then practically sprints from the room and disappears out of sight.

Victor looks down at Katya in surprise. She nods in her infinite teenage wisdom. “Oh yeah,” she says. “He definitely talks about you.”

He considers her for a second, then slumps into the nearest chair and brings his hand to his forehead, trying to massage away the beginnings of a headache. “I suppose I owe you an apology.”

“What?” Katya looks at him, surprise evident on her face.

“The triplets are obviously lashing out at you because of my breakup with Yuuri.” He glances at her. “You know we used to date.”

“I may have seen something about that,” she says dryly. Even today, news articles and skating forums rarely mention Victor without mentioning Yuuri, and vice versa. Their names are perpetually tied together when it comes to the public.

“Anyway, I’m sorry, if all this is my fault.” He lowers his hand and sits up, looking right at her. “And they were wrong about something. I’m not going to drop you if you get hurt. Don’t worry about that.”

“I know.” She looks at him strangely, then sits down next to him and puts a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about the triplets. If they can’t get over something that happened when they were little, then I think that’s pretty sad.” She smiles at him, encouraging.

He chuckles. It’s sweet, how she’s trying to make him feel better. “Yeah.” He stands and pulls her up with him. “Come on. Let’s go get some dinner.”

* * *

 

Victor had hoped that Katya’s brief moment of pity for the triplets coupled with Yuuri and Yuuko’s fury at their behavior would have provided a brief reprieve from their fight, but he had been wrong.

The next night, after Katya’s free skate, he happens upon her at the hotel gift shop when he goes down to buy a soda. She’s using the communal microwave and seems very sheepish to have gotten caught.

“What are you heating up?” he asks, immediately on guard because she’s acting suspicious.

“Just a little popcorn…” she answers, her eyes darting away as she pinches her lips together nervously. A small pop sounds from the microwave, punctuating her reply.

Victor raises an eyebrow. “Popcorn’s not on the nutrition plan.”

“Neither is Coke,” she says, poking him in the stomach.

Victor gasps indignantly. Just because his abs aren’t necessarily rock hard anymore doesn’t mean they don’t exist. He moves to put his bottle of Coke back on the shelf, but stops halfway through and turns back to her. “I suppose we could both cheat a little. To celebrate.”

Katya sighs and bends to study the bag popping away in the microwave. “This isn’t celebratory popcorn. It’s consolation popcorn.”

“Hey,” Victor says gently. “I know you didn’t win gold, but second place is still something to be proud of.”

She smiles sadly. “I know. It’s not that.” She straightens and looks up at him. “The broadcast showed the Nishigori triplets laughing at me when I was edged out. The whole internet’s talking about it.”

Victor frowns. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

Katya pulls out her phone, wakes it, and waves it in Victor’s face. “200 new notifications.”

“Most of those are probably congratulations.” Victor takes the phone, puts it to sleep, and gives it back to her. “Don’t let those girls dampen your victory. You did well today.”

The microwave beeps and Katya takes out the bag, pinching it gingerly so it won’t burn. “Thanks. You’re probably right.” She gives him a hopeful smile. “I’m going upstairs while this is still hot.”

Victor eyes the bag, tries not to look at the calorie count on it. “Maybe don’t eat the whole thing, though?” he suggests helplessly.

She laughs. “Sure thing, Coach.”

Victor huffs a laugh as he watches her disappear from the gift shop, blonde ponytail bouncing behind her. She only calls him ‘Coach’ when she’s humoring him.

When he finally gets his soda back to his room, he immediately powers on his laptop and looks up the video footage Katya was talking about. Sure enough, it’s making the rounds on Twitter within the skating community. The actual clip is not nearly as bad as Katya made it out to be. It only shows the triplets grinning for a second or two when the final skater’s scores are announced. If not for the ongoing feud, one could even argue the triplets were just fans of the gold medalist.

But because the Twitter war is so public, everyone knows that those matching grins are sinister. In fact, people are already pulling the screenshot and making memes. ‘MRW my parents blame my brother for something I did.’ ‘My friends when I say I just want a quiet night in.’

Victor closes his laptop. The feud is taking on a life of its own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, so technically '24K Magic' by Bruno Mars wouldn't have been out yet when Victor was winning competitions. But... it was the perfect song for that joke, and I'm leaving it.


	7. JGP Russia Part 1

* * *

_**@sukeota3sisters** Made it to Canada! Make sure to watch Loop's Junior debut on the livestream! And later, Lutz will be livetweeting every time @katyandreevna trips over her own skates. #JGPRussia #Loopsbigday_

* * *

 

Between JGP Canada and JGP Russia, things do not settle down between Katya and the triplets. It seems that every other day, the girls are coming up with new and expressive ways to torture each other.

Katya posts a picture of the defaced piglet, asking the world what kind of monsters would ruin a toy that was a gift from a four-year-old. Victor wasn’t too proud that he’d told her the story about Emmeline when he saw that.

The triplets post a compilation video of all Katya’s falls in televised competitions.

Katya finds a ridiculously old picture of one of the triplets throwing a temper tantrum as a toddler.

The triplets find Katya’s fifth grade yearbook photo, when she had braces.

By the time Victor’s at JGP Russia, he’s exhausted. He’s tired of following the drama of teenage girls. He’s tired of lecturing Katya every time another post appears online. He’s tired of radio silence from Yuuri.

Not that Victor has tried to contact Yuuri either. He’s trying to let Yuuri make the next move. But no matter how much Katya and the triplets fight, Yuuri hasn’t reached out to him to try and find a solution.

But that’s okay. It’s not time to think about that now. Now, it’s time to focus on Katya’s free program. She may have taken silver at JSF Canada, but the competition is more intense here in Russia, and she’ll have to be at her best if she wants to make it into the Grand Prix Final.

Victor leans against the boards as the official warm-up starts. To his great surprise, Yuuri comes and rests his arms on the boards next to him.

He gives Victor a timid smile. “Hi.”

Victor’s pretty sure his face is pure bewilderment. “Hi.”

“I just wanted to apologize again for what happened in Canada.” Yuuri tilts his head. “And for everything that’s happened since.”

“Oh,” says Victor. “It’s okay.”

It’s all so sudden that Victor can’t think of much else to say, so they just watch Katya and Loop run a warm-up lap. The girls keep to opposite sides of the rink.

Yuuri knocks his elbow into the poodle tissue holder. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen this.”

“Oh, yeah,” Victor laughs nervously. “I’ll probably use it until it falls apart.”

Yuuri hums his acknowledgment, then says, softly, “I was pretty sad to hear about Makkachin.”

Victor nods, pensive. “Well, he was old. It was his time, I guess. I had a hard time with it for a while, but who wouldn’t?”

Yuuri turns to face him. “But you got a new puppy, right?”

Victor can’t help but smile. “Yeah, Lishniy. She’s nuts.”

“Can I see a picture?”

Victor studies Yuuri. He’s looking up at him eagerly, grinning. Victor marvels at how easily they’ve fallen into small talk, and how right it feels. “Only if I can see one of your nephew.”

“Deal.” They both pull out their phones. Yuuri oohs and ahhs over the dozens of pictures Victor has of Lishniy (compiled into a folder all their own, narrowed down from hundreds he’s taken over the last year or so). Yuuri talks about his nephew, shows pictures of his first steps on his chubby little legs.

“What are you doing?” Katya’s suddenly in front of them, reaching to tug her water bottle out of Victor’s hand.

Victor levels his gaze at her. “Talking. Is it against the law?”

She gives him a sassy look right back. “Don’t fraternize with the enemy,” she says coldly before pushing off and launching herself into a triple lutz.

Victor and Yuuri both laugh. “Busted,” Yuuri mumbles.

It’s nice, joking around with Yuuri. It seems almost normal, if not for the looming cloud of history hanging over both of their heads. Victor’s eyes skirt down to Yuuri’s knee, as if he expects it to look any different, six years after surgery and hidden by Yuuri’s pant leg. If Yuuri notices, he doesn’t say anything.

The warm-up ends too soon and Yuuri and Victor both have to get back to work.

* * *

 

Katya took second again, and Victor just knows it’s because of that stupid step sequence. It was enough to get her into the Grand Prix Final, though, so he has another couple months to fix it.

Loop Nishigori took sixth. She did not look pleased when Yuuri led her off.

Victor had been hoping to see Yuuri again after the event, but knew from personal experience that the man liked to keep to himself after competitions. At least, he used to. Victor goes down to the hotel bar that night, just in case, but Yuuri never shows up. Before long, Victor goes back to his room since he has an early flight out the next day.

It’s still dark when he wakes to a text from the airline. Their flight is canceled due to snow. Puzzled, Victor turns on his TV, already making plans to rent a car and drive back to St. Petersburg. The weather anchor is talking in length about how the storm is turning in to a blizzard, just like they predicted. Already, roads are shutting down.

Oops. In all the excitement for JGP Russia, Victor had never even thought to check the weather report, especially since October is usually too early for snow. If he had known, he would have tried to get Katya home last night.

Victor wonders if Yuuri made the same mistake.

There’s no way to know now, before dawn has even broken. Victor texts Katya to go back to sleep, that they’re snowed in for the time being. Katya texts back a thumbs-up emoji.

It’s never been that easy for Victor. Once he wakes up, he’s up for good. So he dresses and makes his way downstairs to sort things out with the front desk, since they’re stuck until the storm passed. Even at this early hour, there’s a line of people doing the same thing.

“Victor! Hey!”

Victor looks to the sound and sees Yuuko, towards the front of the line, bouncing and waving at him. She’s awfully peppy for this early in the morning. It’s a trait that both of them had always shared. She’s waving him over furiously, so he goes to her.

“There you are, honey!” Yuuko says loudly as he approaches. “What took you?” She weaves their fingers together and tugs him down so she can plant a kiss on his cheek. Even with him leaning over, she has to stand on her tiptoes.

He shoots her a confused look. She keeps the big grin on her face, but her eyes dart away, to the long line of angry Russians behind them. And then Victor understands.

“Forgive me, my love,” he replies, pecking a quick kiss onto their entwined fingers. He pays her a few compliments in Russian and they both turn towards the front of the line.

“Thank god you came along!” Yuuko says, bringing her voice down to a normal volume now. “I was getting really worried about how I was going to communicate with the employees here. This goes a little beyond conversational Russian.” She shows him her phone, open to Google Translate, before putting it back in her purse with a relieved smile.

“So you guys are stuck too?” Yuuko doesn’t answer him, because it’s not really a question. “Where’s Yuuri?”

“I told him I’d handle this. He doesn’t need to worry about a canceled flight this early in the morning.” She shoots Victor a glance that says ‘you know what I mean.’

Victor shakes his head and raises his eyes to the ceiling as he pictures it. The Yuuri who panics when the best-laid plans go awry, combined with the Yuuri who can be more than a little grumpy when someone wakes him up even a minute before his alarm goes off. “Yeah,” Victor says. “Good call.”

“The girls were actually happy the flight was canceled!” Yuuko laughs, and it’s so contagious, Victor can’t help but join in.

“Katya probably was, too.”

“Well.” Yuuko’s eyes are kind when she looks up at Victor. “I guess we can’t all be early birds.”

The hotel clerk calls them up and they hurry forward. Luckily, the clerk anticipates exactly what they need. The city of Moscow had called a state of emergency until later that evening, so the hotel is obligated to help accommodate the stranded guests. Victor listens to the instructions of the clerk, then translates to Yuuko.

“Even though the worst of the storm will be over by tonight, it’s going to snow well into tomorrow and probably the next day. The roads and airport will probably be closed until then. I’m going to extend my reservation for at least tonight and tomorrow night. What about you?”

Yuuko nods. “If that’s what you think.”

Once they get everything squared away, Yuuko insists on buying him breakfast at the hotel buffet. “For translating, and for putting up with my crazy family,” she says.

As they sit there, eating, Yuuko apologizes for her daughters’ behavior at JGP Canada. “Yuuri told me what they said,” she explains, sipping her tea. “I just wanted you to know they were grounded after that. Like, majorly. With extra chores.”

Victor chuckles, spearing his eggs with a fork.

Yuuko goes on. “Also… I’m not sure where they drew those conclusions, but it wasn’t from Takashi or me. We wouldn’t say anything like that about you, especially not in front of the girls.” She grips her mug, warming her hands as the snow beats angrily at the window beside her. “Our best guess is that they found that stuff on some forum for skating fans.”

She’s referring to the comments about Victor abandoning Yuuri after he got hurt, of course. Victor had briefly considered that the triplets overheard their parents discuss the breakup, but he had dismissed the thought pretty quickly. Yuuko is so sweet, and even though she could be fiercely protective of her friends, Victor didn’t think she’d be mad enough to talk badly about him, especially after all this time.

Victor nods at her. “I know how the breakup looked to the public. I lost a number of fans because of it.” People online had some nasty things to say, so Yuuko’s theory about the triplets makes sense.

They sit in silence for a minute, eat their breakfasts, look out at the snow. Even though conversation had been flowing smoothly, now that it’s stopped, it’s a little awkward.

“You’re a lot quieter than I remember,” Yuuko notes. “Is there something on your mind?”

Victor shrugs, takes a sip of his coffee. “No, not really.”

Yuuko’s eyes tell him she knows he’s full of crap. “Yuuri?”

“Well…” he confesses. He gives a humorless chuckle.

“You missed him.”

It’s not a question, but Victor sighs and answers anyway. “I didn’t think I did. At least, I tried not to. But then I saw him again, in Canada.” Yuuko nods, studying him carefully. Victor tilts his head and looks out the window at the snow. “I just can’t get a read on him.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just…” Victor frowns as he hands his empty plate to a waiter. “One minute he’s talking to me and things are going fine, and the next minute he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.”

“Hmm,” Yuuko hums thoughtfully. “In a way, it doesn’t surprise me. Yuuri’s never had an ex before. Not one he was serious with, like you.” She picks her teabag back up off her plate, dips it in her mug a few times. “I think he might be getting too caught up in how he’s supposed to treat you.”

Victor knits his eyebrows together, curious. “How he’s supposed to treat me?”

“Yeah. Like, you know. Exes can’t be friends, don’t revisit the past…” She waves a hand. “I don’t know. All those stupid clichés.”

“Does he really believe that stuff?”

“I don’t know. But sooner or later, he’s bound to realize they’re not true.” Yuuko plucks the teabag back out and gives him a smile. “You’ll just have to convince him.”

Victor blinks. After a moment’s consideration, he asks the question that’s been on his mind since he first saw Yuuko in Canada. “I broke up with your best friend. Why are you being so nice?”

Yuuko laughs and rolls her eyes. “You two were stupid kids. You just let stupid stuff get in the way of what was really important. I can’t blame you for that.”

Victor can’t help but smile. “I was 29. I don’t know how much leniency I deserve.”

With a shrug, she says, “You were still young.” She peers over Victor’s shoulder. “We all make stupid decisions when we’re young and in love.”

Victor twists and sees one of the triplets, just off the elevator, looking around for her mother. He turns back. “You say that, but honestly, you may be the wisest person I know.”

Yuuko laughs, loud and bubbly. “Make sure you tell my kids that.”

Victor chuckles too, but they’re both cut off by a very insistent, “Mom!”

They look over. The blue triplet has found them. She’s standing over their table, crossing her arms stubbornly.

“Lutz,” Yuuko greets. “Come here. Come sit with me.” When her daughter comes closer, Yuuko pulls her into her lap. “Don’t worry,” Yuuko says to Victor. “Lutz is the nice one.”

Based on the way Lutz is scowling at him, Victor never would have guessed.

He doesn’t stay much longer.

* * *

 

The rest of the day, Victor wanders the hotel, partly because he hates being stuck in his room, but mostly because he wants to run into Yuuri. The conversation with Yuuko didn’t put him at ease. If Yuuri really is putting on some sort of show when he’s around Victor, acting how he thinks exes are supposed to act, then there’s no telling what he’s actually thinking. And Victor desperately wants to know what Yuuri’s actually thinking.

Victor flits from the hotel restaurant to the bar to the lobby to the gym, and then back to the restaurant again. No sign of Yuuri.

He does find Katya in the lobby of the hotel, reading a book in front of a TV. He catches a glimpse of the weather forecast. All the news anchors seem to be in agreement: the worst of the storm will pass tonight, but it’ll take time to get the city back up and running again.

“Stuck at least another day.” Katya smiles at the TV. “Too bad there aren’t any rinks in walking distance.” She sounds absolutely chipper about it.

Victor glances down at her, raises an eyebrow. “You mean, other than the one you just skated at yesterday?”

Katya shrugs. “Well, there’s that one, I guess.” She straightens up suddenly when she realizes what he’s implying. “Oh, Victor. No. _No_.”

“I have to make some calls.” Victor can’t help but give her an ominous grin. “Keep your phone on, okay? I’ll text you later.”

He leaves her sputtering in the hotel lobby and makes his way to his room.

 _Okay_ , Victor thinks, pulling out his phone. _If fate won’t bring Yuuri to me, I’ll have to do it myself._

It takes the better part of the afternoon, but he manages to call in a couple of favors and secure some time at the rink. Finally, he painstakingly composes a text to Yuuri.

_Hey, idk if this is still your number, but I’ve booked some time at the rink tomorrow. We should be able to walk outside by then. If you want to bring the triplets, we have it from 8-11._

Send.

He reads it one more time. Shit.

_I’ve extended the invitation to the other coaches too, of course._

Send.

_Not just you guys._

Send.

Shit shit shit. He’s such an idiot. He throws his phone face down onto the bed, grabs a pillow, and screams into it. He paces the hotel room, running his hands through his hair. Outside, the snow beats against the window. Finally, he picks up his phone again. No reply. He stares at the screen.

He has to wake it from sleep mode three times before he sees those three fateful dots, indicating Yuuri is typing something. Victor holds his breath.

_“OK, sounds good to us.”_

Victor breathes a sigh of relief and flops back onto his bed.


	8. JGP Russia, Part 2

* * *

_**@katyandreevna** I thought being snowed in would be a nice staycation, but @v-nikiforov had other plans... #sigh #unfair #slavedriver_

_**@sukeota3sisters** @katyandreevna Finally, we agree on something. Keep your coach under control! #stuckpracticingtoo_

* * *

 

Victor walks into the ice rink a few minutes early, Katya at his heels. Despite her complaints yesterday, she bounces happily in the warm lobby of the rink, cheeks pink from the chill outside.

“You know,” she says, as if she knows what he’s thinking, “I wasn’t very happy when you said I had to train during my vacation.”

“Not a vacation,” Victor corrects her. “We’re in the middle of the season. No time for breaks.”

She continues, ignoring him. “But I’ll tell you, Victor, you sure know the way to a girl’s heart!” She cuddles her paper coffee cup close to her chest, inhaling. She hasn’t shut up about that stupid hot chocolate since they’d left the cafe. Not that Victor begrudges her, that is. He remembers how brutal it was to maintain a strict diet most of the year. This is probably the first times she’s cheated since that popcorn, weeks ago. She has a blissful smile on her face. “Heavenly!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Victor fakes being annoyed with her, just to keep up appearances. He shifts his cardboard drink holder from one hand to the other and slides his duffel bag off his shoulder. “Just go lace up, already.”

Katya practically dances to the girls’ locker room. If only she could achieve that level of fluidity in front of the judges.

Victor heads into a little staff room that has a table, fridge, and microwave. He sets down his bag and takes the two drinks out of his carrier.

Over the next few minutes, coaches and skaters trickle in, and soon the staff room is filled with bags. Someone makes a pot of coffee. Victor waits with bated breath until Katya sticks her head in and calls him out to the rink. He nukes the two drinks in the microwave for a few seconds, just to get them extra hot, before following her to the ice.

Even though the rink is busy with four or five skaters and coaches, Victor puts on his skates to join Katya anyway. Yuuri may be on his mind, but he still has a student who’s reaching for a gold medal.

He’s busy watching Katya run through her short program when Axel, Lutz, and Loop get on the ice. Katya stops skating.

“Work on your pancake spin,” Victor says. “See if you can increase your speed.”

He skates back to the boards, where the cup of tea he bought for Yuuri is just reaching a comfortable drinking temperature. He looks across the rink and spots him, standing on the ice near the entrance. Victor skates over, casually.

“Hey, you made it!” He puts on a big smile. “I thought maybe the snow would keep you away.”

Yuuri looks at him curiously. “No. I thought it was important for the girls to come. Introduce them to some kids in their bracket, you know?”

“Good idea.” Victor’s smile falls when he realizes Yuuri hasn’t returned it. “Um… I brought you some green tea.”

“Oh…” Yuuri takes the cup awkwardly. “Uh, thanks.”

Victor furrows his brow. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing!” Yuuri hurries to say. “It’s just… I drink coffee in the mornings now.”

Victor raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Victor looks away. He used to know everything about Yuuri. “I’m sorry. I think there’s still some coffee in the kitchen…”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Yuuri waves his free hand in apology. “I’ll drink it. I still enjoy green tea.”

He takes a sip, but Victor still feels blue. He slumps back against the boards and takes a sip of his own drink. They stand side-by-side and watch the skaters for a bit.

Now that he’s watching the triplets skate together, Victor can see they’re anything but identical. Their personalities shine through in three different ways.

The purple triplet is zooming around the rink, narrowly avoiding the other skaters. It wins her a few dirty looks from the coaches. She gears up for a jump, and Victor can tell it’s going to end in disaster even before Yuuri shouts, “Axel, no!”

But Axel jumps anyway, overrotating a double due to her speed, and tumbles onto the ice. Victor cringes, but Axel just pops back to her feet and keeps going.

“Yikes,” Victor says. “Is she always that… enthusiastic?”

Yuuri chuckles. “That’s one way of putting it.” He takes another sip of the tea. “She’s quite the daredevil. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get her to be serious enough to teach her any choreography.” His expression grows weary at the thought of it.

“Interesting,” Victor says, watching Axel skirt around Katya, barely avoiding impalement by Katya’s blade as she spins. “It seems like she’d have more fun with speed skating, maybe.”

Yuuri turns to Victor. “What?”

“Speed skating. Much more high-adrenaline than figure skating. She’s even about the right age to start, if she wanted to be competitive at it.” He shrugs, then glances down at Yuuri when he’s met with silence. “What?”

Yuuri’s gaping at him. “Speed skating. Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”

Victor smiles. “Sometimes it just takes a second pair of eyes, right? What about the other two?” He looks around the rink. “That one in the pink is Loop, right?” He immediately recognizes her as the one who skated against Katya the other day. She has an easy expressiveness to the way she skates.

“Uh,” Yuuri shakes his head, as if still trying to get over the whole speed skating revelation. “Yeah, that’s Loop.”

She’s watching Katya very closely. “She only performed a triple Salchow. Is that the only triple she has?”

Yuuri’s face darkens with frustration. “Yes. She has the most raw talent of the three, and it’s made her cocky. There wasn’t much competition in the Novice division for her, so she became a little lazy with her training.”

Katya leaps into a triple toe loop, and Loop turns away before Katya catches her looking. Victor watches Loop rush to the other side of the rink and try a triple toe loop herself. She fails spectacularly, but gets right back up to try again. Victor catches a glimpse of determination in her eye. “That may not be a problem anymore.”

Yuuri smiles up at him. “Yeah, she wasn’t very happy about sixth place. Even Axel outscored her.”

Victor beams, happy to finally be connecting with Yuuri. He scans the rink for the last triplet. “What about Lutz? Still in the novice division, yes?”

“Right.”

“Why?”

“Well, just watch.” Yuuri tilts his head and Victor follows his line of sight to the little blue figure dancing across the rink. She gears up, leaps, and barely manages a double loop before landing on an unsteady leg. “No triples,” Yuuri goes on. “But she works so hard to catch up. She runs before and after school, and lifts weights with her dad in the evenings.”

Victor startles and looks at Yuuri in surprise. “She lifts weights with Nishigori?”

Yuuri nods.

 _Then she should be able to get enough rotations in._ Victor rubs his bottom lip. “Do you mind if I…?”

“Oh, not at all.” Yuuri cups his hands around his mouth. “Lutz!” When she looks over, he beckons, and she comes skating over.

Lutz is supposed be the nice one, Victor reminds himself when she nods curtly at him. “Can I see that double loop again?” he asks her.

She glances at Yuuri, but complies. The result is similar to what he saw from across the rink, almost underrotated, shaky landing.

“Okay,” he says, falling easily into coaching. “I want you to bend your knee a little more before you push off, and focus on height this time. Don’t worry too much about getting the rotations in, just jump as high as you can.” He skates towards her and demonstrates the motion.

Lutz watches him carefully, then takes off into the air. She adds an inch or two to the jump, landing it more easily this time. She has a smile on her face as she skates back, but Victor’s shaking his head.

“More. You’re afraid to go higher. Don’t hold back.”

It takes a few tries, but Victor eventually persuades her to get an impressive amount of height for her double. He vaguely notices the rest of the people at the rink have shifted a little closer, keeping an ear open for any words of wisdom that may fall from Victor Nikiforov’s lips. Joke’s on them. This is all basic stuff.

“There,” Victor finally says. “Did you feel that? How much longer you’re in the air now?” He watches for her nod before continuing. “If you practice all your jumps like that, soon you’ll find you’re in the air long enough to get three rotations in. Not yet, though. Make it a habit, first.”

Lutz smiles, shy, and tries a Salchow. Victor watches as her landings get better and better. Before long, he dismisses her to take a break. It’s clear she’s worked hard on her endurance training, because she’s just barely starting to tire after all those jumps.

“Thanks Victor!” she calls as she skates off. Victor doesn’t miss the glares Lutz’s sisters are shooting at her as she retreats.

He turns around to see Yuuri standing there, looking pleased, but maybe tiny bit disappointed.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Victor says, instantly panicked. “I overstepped, didn’t I? I got carried away.” He’s done it again. He’s pushed Yuuri away.

He skates closer, afraid of Yuuri closing him off, but Yuuri is just shaking his head though the apology. “No, it was great. In an hour, you managed to solve all the coaching problems I’ve had for the past year.”

And that’s when Victor recognizes the look in Yuuri’s eyes. Not disappointment, but the thinly veiled sting of inadequacy. He didn’t see it right away because Yuuri’s older, more confident now, but it’s still there, plain as day.

The fact he can still recognize it puts the whole coffee mistake into perspective. Hopefully, Victor still knows how to shut that stupid voice in Yuuri’s brain up.

“Actually,” Victor says, “I was hoping we could make a trade. You had an hour of my time. Can I borrow an hour of yours?”

Yuuri’s face flickers with curiosity, but it’s replaced immediately by suspicion. Victor’s heart hurts when he realizes how the question sounded, almost like Victor was about to ask Yuuri out to dinner or something. The way Yuuri’s looking at him now, it’s clear that would be out of the question. Victor tries to keep his pain off his face.

“For what?” Yuuri asks hesitantly, confirming Victor’s theory.

Victor turns away, quick to put Yuuri’s fears to rest, and calls Katya over. “Show Yuuri the step sequence from your free skate.”

Katya looks from Victor to Yuuri, then back to Victor. She switches to Russian. “What did I tell you about fraternizing with the enemy?”

“He’s not the enemy!” Victor switches to his native tongue, too. “And unless you want to wait six months for your next hot chocolate, you will do as I say.”

Katya’s glare hardens. “Fine!” she spits in English. She skates angrily away to give herself room.

“Sorry,” Victor mutters to Yuuri.

Yuuri shrugs. They watch Katya practically tap dance her step sequence. It makes Victor want to pull his hair out. Watching this part of Katya’s program is more unappealing than the sound of nails on a chalkboard.

“Not bad,” Yuuri says when she finishes.

“Not bad?” Victor echoes in disbelief. “It’s like she’s skating with clown shoes on! I run her through it every day, for months, and that’s all we have to show for it. It’s terribly unpolished and you know it.”

“Hey!” Katya yells at him. “I’m right here!”

They glare at each other.

“Show me again?” Yuuri requests quietly.

Holding Victor’s challenging gaze one extra second, Katya resets and runs through the step sequence again. Victor watches Yuuri this time. He can practically see the wheels turning in Yuuri’s head as he focuses.

When Katya finishes, Yuuri nods. “Okay. Follow me.”

They skate down to the far end of the rink. Victor follows, but leaves a bit of distance between himself and Yuuri and Katya. He doesn’t really know what Yuuri’s going for, so he hangs back and watches him work.

“Do it again,” Yuuri says. “Just the beginning bit. Start here, and go in that direction until you run out of room.”

Katya does, flailing like someone put roller skates on a baby giraffe. Victor’s mouth becomes a thin line.

“Stay there,” Yuuri warns when she’s about to run into the boards. “Don’t move.”

Yuuri sets himself up about a foot to the right of where Katya started, then runs through her step sequence from memory. He performs it flawlessly despite only having seen it a handful of times, and it’s everything Victor imagined it could be when he first choreographed it. Watching Yuuri skate it is as satisfying as sinking into the hot springs in Hasetsu.

Yuuri stops next to Katya, takes her by the shoulders, and points her down the line they both just danced. “Look,” he says, gesturing to the cuts they’ve made together in the ice.

Katya’s mouth drops open, and Victor rushes over to stand next to the pair, careful not to skate over their work. Before them, a sprawling network of lines reaches out. They’re at the end of the picture, turned around to look back, so Katya’s lines are on the right now. They’re parallel to Yuuri’s on the left, but they couldn’t look more different. Katya has little loops where Yuuri has sharp corners; Katya’s have breaks and wobbles where Yuuri’s lines start and end with purpose.

“All step sequences, basically, are about drawing patterns on the ice,” Yuuri says. “The prettier the picture you draw, the better it looks to the audience, too.”

“No way,” Katya whispers. Victor feels about as awed as she sounds.

“Come on.” Yuuri skates around to the front of the design. “Look closer. See here? That’s when you should be changing directions more quickly, like instantaneous. And here, that little tail? You’re not shifting your weight to your other foot fast enough.” They go through a few more markings, before Yuuri leans back and crosses his arms in satisfaction. “If you can make yours look more like mine, that’ll clean it up a lot.”

Katya stares at Yuuri like he’s some sort of god. Victor understands, because he’s pretty sure he’s wearing the same look on his face right now. “That’s it?” she asks.

Yuuri shrugs. “Well, that and practice.”

Katya scowls suddenly, twirls to look accusingly at Victor. “So when you said my step sequence was sloppy, you meant _literally_ sloppy?” She points to the patterns on the ice.

Victor blinks. “I guess… in a roundabout way, that’s what I meant?”

“Well, why couldn’t you explain it that way? I can fix _this_ ,” she uses both hands to gesture at the ice. “But when you just say ‘it was sloppy,’” she makes air quotes and uses the most insulting Victor impression he’s ever heard, “that doesn’t give me anything to work with!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the worst coach in the world,” Victor says, placating. “Just work on the stupid step sequence, please.”

She sticks out her tongue at him and leaves.

Yuuri skates next to him and they both turn around to watch all the children, practicing on the rink. “Thank you,” Victor says to Yuuri. “I could never get through to her about that step sequence. It was driving me crazy.”

Yuuri smiles, looking at the triplets, who are taking turns recording their jumps on their phones a little ways away. “And thank you for Lutz, and the advice about Axel.”

“It’s kind of funny,” Victor says. He bends over to scrape the ice off his left skate. “We still make a really good team.”

He looks up when Yuuri doesn’t say anything. Yuuri’s arms are crossed, his face red. “I’d better get the girls back. They seem to be done practicing.”

Victor straightens up. “Wait a second.”

But Yuuri skates away and doesn’t seem to hear him.

* * *

 

“He’s still mad at me,” Victor says. To his credit, he waited until Katya was fed and taken care of to hole up in his room and lament to Chris. “It’s the only explanation.”

It’s midday in Switzerland, so they’re Facetiming. Chris’s face scrunches up in disbelief. “After six years? Are you sure?”

“What else could it be?” He’s sitting back against a stack of pillows at the top of the bed. He crosses his legs. “Every time things seem to be going well, he runs away. He’s reminding himself that he’s mad at me.”

Chris scratches the cat in his lap, the purring audible even on Victor’s side of the call. “Why would he have to remind himself if he was still mad at you?”

“Don’t ask me,” Victor throws his arms up exasperation. “I’m not mad at him. I don’t know what it’s like!”

The cat looks up at Chris when the scratching ceases, so Chris pets her. “Maybe he’s trying to keep you at arms length because he has a lover.”

Victor opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. “You don’t think that’s what it is, do you?”

“Do you care?” Chris raises his eyebrows to the camera.

Victor frowns. “I mean, I shouldn’t. It’s been six years. We’ve both dated other people since.”

“And did you care then?”

Victor struggles to answer. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I tried my best not to think about it.”

“Let me ask you something.” Chris picks up his phone, brings it closer so he fills the entire frame. “What do you want out of these talks with Yuuri?”

“What do you mean?” Victor shakes his head. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“No, you’re not,” says Chris, because he knows Victor better than anyone else in the world. “You’re testing the waters. You’re feeling Yuuri out. What do you hope to find?”

“Nothing.”

“Try again,” Chris insists sternly. “Best case scenario, what do you want to get from reconnecting with him? You want to get back together, you want to see if you can be friends…?”

“I…” Victor looks away from the screen, toward an ugly painting of a meadow on the hotel wall. “I don’t know.”

Chris exhales, comes right out and says it. “You still have feelings for him, don’t you?”

“What?” Victor drops the phone and it lands harmlessly on the hotel mattress. “No!”

“Mm-hmm.” As Victor scrambles to pick his phone back up, he sees Chris raise his eyebrow in disbelief.

“I don’t!” Victor insists. “I mean, seeing him again has been nice, but...” He shifts, stretching his legs in front of him. “We’ve only talked a few times, and it’s been six years. He could be a totally different man than the one I remember.”

“Oh, good,” Chris says. “You haven’t completely lost your mind.”

“It’s just…” Victor sighs, runs his hand through his hair. “When we first got together, Chris, when things were good… I was the happiest I’d ever been. I can’t help but wonder _what if_ …”

“I’ll tell you ‘what if.’ What if you end up putting yourself through the worst pain of your life all over again? A second time. And Yuuri, too.”

Victor instantly feels defensive. “It might not end that way again.”

“Listen,” Chris says gently. His cat pushes her way into the picture, so Chris nudges her onto the floor. “I’ve seen a lot of friends run back to their exes because of, I don’t know… electricity. Or maybe it’s just familiar and easy. And you know what happens?”

Victor clenches his teeth, but manages a “What?”

“They break up. ‘On again, off again’ relationships almost always end up ‘off.’”

“ _Almost_ always?”

“Victor,” Chris looks at him sympathetically. “I thought we were past this. Remember? We want to be moving forward.”

Victor closes his eyes. “Yeah. I remember. You’re right. We are past this.”

“Are you sure?”

Chris’s words are sobering, and Victor suddenly remembers where he was just a few months ago, living his own life, Yuuri just a distant memory. An old boyfriend who will always hold a special place in his heart, but they had both agreed to go their separate ways.

A younger Victor was in love with him. That’s what he’s feeling now. Just the aftershock of that. Just nostalgic for the way things used to be.

“Yes,” Victor breathes. “I’m sure.”


	9. Yakov's Party

* * *

_**@sukeota3sisters** New blog post! How Katya Andreevna's JGP Performance Proves She's Already Peaked_

* * *

 

 

Victor spends the next few months concentrating on work. Thanks to Yuuri’s advice, both Katya and Victor know how to fix her step sequence, so they spend a lot of time on it. Their biggest challenge by the end of each day is finding a smooth spot on the ice so they can assess how she’s doing.

And it’s working. Victor is watching her become more nimble with each passing day. It takes a while, but her accuracy is getting better.

It’s not clean enough to get her first place at the Junior Grand Prix Final, but she brings home a silver anyway. She wins Russian Junior Nationals. By the time Worlds rolls around, they’re not focused on the execution of the step sequence anymore, but her interpretation of it. Katya’s fourteen and just starting to get good at emoting on the ice.

She misses gold at Worlds by a fraction of a point.

It hurts Victor even more than when Yuuri missed gold at their first—and, as it turned out, only— Grand Prix Final as coach and student. That day, Yurio had won. It had been bittersweet.

But Victor isn’t friends with the gold medal winner this time. He’d watched Katya work so, so hard. It was disappointing that it wasn’t quite enough.

Six years ago, missing gold had encouraged Yuuri to keep trying. It lit a fire inside him, if only for a few months. And it lights a fire inside Katya now, too. She sets her jaw, yells at Victor that she’ll continue to train in the off-season, that they can’t let her fall out of shape because that’ll be all the more work they’ll have to do when the end of the summer comes. He watches her calmly as she knits her brow, absolutely furious at him, at the gold medalist, at herself. He’s never been more proud of her.

He had hoped since Axel and Loop hadn’t made it into the Grand Prix Final, things would calm down online. The girls wouldn’t see each other in person for a while. Neither Axel nor Loop did well enough in Japanese Nationals to qualify for any more events this year. Victor kept a close eye on their performances. They did well, for their Junior debuts, but they lacked the experience to be strong contenders yet. Maybe next year.

Unfortunately, things didn’t improve with their feud. Their blog practically turned into an anti-Katya Andreevna website. After every one of her performances, like clockwork, there would be a critique posted the next day. And they were never very fair to Katya, downplaying her successes and focusing on her shortcomings. Victor is almost offended on Katya’s behalf, but the insults are so innocent in their cruelty. It’s very playground, very eighth grade, and Victor can’t bring himself to care enough.

In February, Yurio discloses that Yakov is inviting every skater who’s ever skated at his rink to his retirement party. That includes Yuuri.

In March, Yurio mentions that Yuuri has RSVP’d yes.

By April, Victor’s on pins and needles.

* * *

 

“Because you RSVP’d that you would,” he says smoothly, parting his hair with a comb for the thousandth time. He tries not to think about how he’s taking longer to get ready than the teenage girl did.

“You RSVP’d for me.” Her complaints are distinctly louder than they were an hour ago. Lishniy whines, as if to punctuate Katya’s statement.

Victor lets his hands fall, staring at his part in dismay. “I helped organize the party. You have to come.” Giving up, he turns off the light and leaves the bathroom. He regards his pouting student. “I let you pick one of the desserts, didn’t I?”

Katya’s face brightens. Even though it’s the off-season, she has been staying true to her promise to keep herself in shape, but they had decided together that she could indulge in whatever she wanted tonight. It’s a special occasion. She jumps to her feet and pulls him toward his car.  
  
Katya may have been a good distraction while he was getting ready, but once they’re within sight of the banquet hall, Victor’s nerves catch up with him. He glances around at the crowd, all dressed in formal wear, and gulps.

Even though he sorted out his feelings about Yuuri all those months ago on the phone with Chris—anything he may feel toward Yuuri is just left over from their relationship, not the way he actually feels now— Victor still wants a friendship with him. Which, of course, means he’s spent months overthinking the silence from Yuuri. If tonight goes well, hopefully he can open up the channels of communication again.

Katya, oblivious to his crisis, disappears from his side the moment a tray of appetizers passes by.

Victor, on the other hand, heads right to the bar. His hands are shaking. He needs something to take the edge off. The one thing the unofficial party planning committee had all agreed on: open bar.

After chugging a flute of champagne, and taking another one for the road, Victor spots Yurio. He’s standing with Otabek Altin and not really talking to anyone else, so Victor makes a beeline for them.

“Hey,” he greets them both breathlessly. “Is Yuuri here yet? Have you seen him?”

Yurio rolls his eyes. “No, but it’s good to see you’ve got your priorities in order.” When Victor stares at him blankly, Yurio motions pointedly toward the crowd of people. “You just got here, right? How about you go congratulate Yakov, before you freak out about your ex?” He mutters a swear in Russian under his breath.

Victor sighs impatiently at him, but he knows Yurio’s right. He turns away from the duo, telling them, “I’ll be back,” over his shoulder, and walks away with a new target in mind.

It doesn’t take long to find Yakov. He’s the center of attention, surrounded by well-wishers. He’s already being quite boisterous, and Victor can tell he’s put away more than a few drinks even though it’s still early in the evening.

“Vitya!” Yakov greets. His face is ruddy. “Come here. Thanks for coming!”

“Of course,” Victor said. He bends closer to hug Yakov one-handedly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You were always my most challenging skater, Vitya,” Yakov says loudly, announcing it to the room. As if it’s news to anyone. “And the most rewarding.”

“You mean, rewarding up until the end, right?” Someone chimes in, and the whole crowd roars with laughter. Yakov leans heavily against Victor, slapping his arm good-naturedly.

Victor forces a weak laugh. Whoever spoke probably doesn’t mean to be cruel. The joke has been made many times in the past, and enough time has gone by that Victor can usually laugh about it, too. But tonight, Victor downs his second drink and goes off in search of a third.

When he finds one, he barely takes a sip before a bright flash blinds him. He blinks against the light and sees Katya’s phone in his face.

“What are you doing?”

“Documenting!” Katya beams at him. “I’m bored, so I gave myself a job. Official photographer!”

Her enthusiasm does not lift Victor’s glum mood, but he still lets her lead him around and take pictures of him with all his old rinkmates. Each time they stop, Victor’s friends demand updates on his career, so he throws on a smile and brags about Katya.

“We’re expecting her to take gold at the next Grand Prix Final,” he says for the millionth time. The attention seems to make Katya happy, even though Victor always has one eye out for Yuuri.

It’s at least another half hour until he spots him. Victor hadn’t even see him come in, but suddenly Yuuri’s there in front of him, deep in conversation with his old coach, Celestino.

“This way,” he says, and drags Katya over to them.

Celestino catches sight of them first. “Victor Nikiforov!” he exclaims, breaking his conversation with Yuuri to pull Victor into a hug. When the audible sound of a camera shutter flicks, he pulls back and looks down at Victor’s young photographer. “And Katya Andreevna. I’m Celestino Cialdini. I’ve been keeping an eye on you. Give me a call when you want to make your senior debut, yes?”

Katya wears a charming smile. “Tempting,” she says, eyeing Victor mischievously.

“Don’t even think about it,” Victor deadpans.

Yuuri smiles at Katya. “I watched you at Worlds. Your step sequence was much better.”  
  
“All thanks to you!” She’s practically glowing with pride. “Maybe I’ll call _you_ when I’m going to make my senior debut!”

“Okay, okay.” Victor waves his arms between them, glaring at Katya. “Enough with the jokes, or I’ll have to put a clause in our contract so I’ll own your soul until you _die_.”

But Katya’s immune to his threats and requests a photo. Celestino uses the opportunity to excuse himself. Victor, now four (or maybe five?) glasses of champagne under his belt, grabs Yuuri around the waist, his hand a little lower than appropriate for friends, and pulls him in for a pose. Maybe he’s overdone it with the alcohol. He’s always been handsy when he’s tipsy.

Distantly, he registers that Yuuri stiffens, and there’s no mistaking the spin he does to escape Victor’s grasp after the photo has been taken.

“Victor,” he whispers. His voice sounds strained, and though he smiles at Katya, his knuckles are white as he grips his drink. “Can I talk to you?”

They move a good distance away from Katya. Victor frowns. Yuuri sounds mad, or maybe just uncomfortable. Victor can’t really make it out, but he doesn’t like it. It’s a little too reminiscent of their last few weeks together.

“What?” Victor asks when they’re out of earshot of anyone else. “I’m sorry, Yuuri, I didn’t mean anything—”

“I know,” Yuuri interrupts. He takes a deep, slow breath. His eyes wander toward some of the couples dancing. “Look, Victor…” he begins slowly, and even though Victor’s brain is acting a tiny bit fuzzy, he hangs onto Yuuri’s every word. “I can’t do this.”

Victor shakes his head to clear it, his bangs fluttering against his forehead. “Can’t do what?”

“This.” Yuuri motions between the two of them. “This ‘friend’ thing we’re trying to do. I thought I could, but I just… I can’t.”

Victor blinks a few times. “Oh,” he says dully. He wracks his brain for any mistakes he might have made, other than the slightly too intimate photo hug, but he comes up empty. “Um. Why?”

Yuuri shifts, obviously uncomfortable. “It’s just… too hard for me, okay? It’s too hard.” He looks down at the ground, bows his head a little in his eternally polite way. “I’m sorry.”

Victor opens and closes his mouth a few times. He’s dying to say a million things at once, but the champagne has muddled his mind just enough that he can’t grasp onto a complete thought.

Suddenly, he realizes he’s been incredibly naive. The weeks the two of them had spent together leading up to the breakup had been absolutely miserable. He can’t blame Yuuri for having residual anger, even though it’s been six years. Yuuri’s entitled to his own feelings, and Victor should respect his wishes. So Victor nods slowly and says he understands, even though he doesn’t really. It’s like saying goodbye all over again.

And the first time almost killed him.

Yuuri scampers away after that, disappearing into the crowd of people. Victor trudges back into the fray, looks around until he finds Yurio, still by Otabek’s side. He wanders toward them.

“Please tell me one of you hasn’t had anything to drink tonight.” He looks from Yurio to Otabek with pleading eyes.

Yurio gives him a strange look and says, “Otabek’s driving home, so he’s just drinking coke.” Then, peering a little closer, Yurio asks, “What’s wrong with you?”

Victor ignores his question. “Can you drive Katya back to the athletes’ dorm tonight?”

A quick glance between the pair, and then Yurio nods curtly. “Why? Do you want to keep drinking? How many have you had already?”

“I just feel like cutting loose a little.” He tries to look carefree and happy.

Yurio scoffs. “Looks like you already have. Thanks for asking us earlier.” His sullen frown lessens, and he loses the sarcasm. “Make sure you get yourself a cab. We’ll help you with your car tomorrow.”

Normally, Victor might ponder Yurio’s sudden generosity, but for now, he just wants to avoid anymore questions, so he just says, “Thanks,” and slips off.

After he finds Katya and updates her with the plan, he makes his way back to the bar.

“Now,” he says to the bartender, wiggling his empty champagne glass, “What do you have that’s stronger than this?”

* * *

 

Victor squeezes his eyes shut against the early morning light. He turns away, moans, and instantly regrets it. The sound reverberates through his head, making it pound with pain. He brings his hand to his temple and tries to remember how much he drank last night. “Shit,” he mutters.

He uses his other hand to block the sunlight and tries opening his eyes. It takes a lot of squinting, which doesn’t help his headache, but at last he’s able to stand the light long enough to look around.

He’s been in enough hotel rooms to recognize one instantly when he sees it. He distinctly remembers deciding not to book a room at the hotel that hosted Yakov’s party, so he’s clearly in someone else’s. He sits up slowly. There’s no sign of anyone else. “Shit,” he says again, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.

Belatedly, a thought strikes him and he whips the covers off himself. Thank god, he’s fully clothed. At least he behaved a little last night. His suit jacket, tie, and belt are all missing, but he spots them hanging off a chair not far away. His shoes are probably nearby, too.

Before he can begin to ascertain whose room he’s in, the door opens. Yuuri bustles in, bundled up in a jacket and a scarf against St. Petersburg’s spring chill, still brutal despite it being April. He’s holding a few paper cups from a local coffee place Victor recognizes. When he sees Victor sitting up in bed, he lifts his chin to free his mouth from the scarf. “Oh, good,” he says. “You’re up.”

Victor doesn’t say ‘shit’ out loud a third time, but he’s definitely thinking it. Loudly, again and again, in his head. “Hi,” he says, because he doesn’t really know what else to say. He self-consciously pulls his legs closer to sit cross-legged, taking up as little space on the bed as possible. “Um. What happened?”

Yuuri hands him one of the coffee cups and Victor takes a sip, relishing as the feeling as the warm caffeine hits his bloodstream almost instantaneously. Yuuri, it seems, still knows how Victor takes his favorite beverage in the morning.

“Here,” Yuuri says, digging a breakfast sandwich out of a bag Victor hadn’t noticed earlier. “Eating will help.” Then Yuuri sits down on the small couch next to the window. He faces Victor as he takes a pull of his own coffee. “Yurio was worried about you last night. You asked him to take Katya home, but by the time they were going to leave, you had disappeared.”

Victor can remember that conversation with Yurio, but not much else. At least he had been a little responsible before drinking himself into oblivion. He plays with the wrapper of the breakfast sandwich.

“He asked me to check up on you,” Yuuri continues. “I found you in the bathroom by the lobby, um…” he pauses. “You were sick.”

Victor groans, bringing his hands to his face in embarrassment. The melted cheese smell from his fingers makes his stomach lurch in a way that lets Victor know Yuuri is telling the absolute truth. He’d never thrown up in front of Yuuri, even when they were engaged. “Did you…?”

“See? No. You had the stall locked. I got you some water and a toothbrush from the gift shop, but it was clearly not a good idea to put you in a cab after that, so I brought you up here.” Yuuri sees Victor glance at the lone king bed and hastens to add, “Don’t worry! I took the couch.”

“You took the _couch_?” Victor repeats, exasperated. It’s such a ‘Yuuri’ thing to do. Victor was probably smashed out of his mind, probably destined to spend the night on the floor of a public restroom had Yuuri not shown up, and Yuuri let Victor have the entire bed while he squished himself onto a two-seater couch. As if Victor had been in a position to care where he slept, at that point.

“Eat your sandwich. It’s getting cold.”

He’s such a mother hen. Victor finally unwraps the sandwich and takes a bite.

In the silence, Yuuri speaks again. “I think I need to clarify something, though.”

Victor stops chewing. He suddenly remembers what drove him to drink in the first place. Yuuri had tried to cut off… whatever their relationship was becoming. A budding friendship, maybe. He had wanted to put an end to their communication and here sits Victor, imposing in Yuuri’s hotel room, relying on him to bring him coffee and breakfast when he has a hangover. Victor swallows quickly and moves to get up. “God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

But Yuuri’s standing up, too, putting his hands on Victor’s shoulders and keeping him from moving from his spot on the bed. “No, don’t rush off. You need to hear this.”

Victor sits back, but he’s anything but relaxed. His shoulders tingle from where Yuuri touched him. “I didn’t… say something last night, did I?” He probably did. Geez, wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top of the crap sundae that was this weekend.

“No, no, nothing like that.” But then Yuuri perches himself back on the couch. “Well. Kinda.”

Victor closes his eyes momentarily. Of course. His breakfast sandwich sits, forgotten, on his lap. He’s too anxious to even think about eating it now.

“I think,” Yuuri says slowly, “I may have been a little too vague when we talked last night. You know, before.”

Victor nods, just to show he’s listening.

Yuuri goes on. “You seemed pretty upset, so I just wanted you to know, what I said? It’s not because I’m still mad at you. It’s nothing like that.”

This is the most awkward thing Victor has ever had to endure with an ex, but he knows it may be his last chance to talk candidly with Yuuri about this. “So, what’s it like, then?”

Yuuri sighs. His fingers fiddle with the cardboard sleeve on his coffee cup. “This is hard for me to say. To you. I thought we could be friends, but…”

When he trails off, Victor prompts him patiently. “Yes, you said that last night.”

“Right.” Yuuri nods. “The thing is, I don’t think I can handle it, just being friends. I’m really afraid that we’ll get too close, and I’ll develop feelings for you again.”

Victor’s breath catches in his throat. His left hand can’t seem to hold the coffee cup steady, so he uses both hands instead. “Oh,” he says, numb with shock.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri continues. “It’s been six years, and I’m not angry, and I’m not in love with you or anything. But you were such a big part of my life for so long, I’m worried it might stir things up. And neither of us would want that.”

Victor’s brain is working in slow motion. “Neither of us…?”

“Right. I mean, we really weren’t working at the end. So to bring back old feelings,” Yuuri waves his hand in a ‘you know’ kind of gesture. “I know neither of us want that.”

_Yes!_ Victor’s brain screams. _Yes, I do!_ The realization takes his breath away. Even though the thought had popped up almost instinctively, he knows in this moment that it’s a hundred percent true. He wants Yuuri. We wants Yuuri to have feelings for him.

Yuuri’s watching his reaction closely, but the shock is making it impossible for Victor to respond. He tries to breathe without looking like he’s gasping for air and nods in a casual, agreeable sort of way.

“Do you understand now?” Yuuri asks. He doesn’t seem to notice anything’s wrong, even though Victor’s practically hyperventilating. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings last night.”

Victor’s mouth finally starts working again. “No, that’s… that’s okay. We’ll keep it professional.” His mouth is dry, so he takes a sip of his cooling coffee.

“Great.” Yuuri looks relieved.

Under the guise of keeping it professional, but really in an attempt to hide his mounting panic, Victor leaves pretty quickly after that.


	10. Decisions

* * *

_Twitter seartch: @katyandreevna_

Sorry! That page doesn't exist!

* * *

 

Lishniy isn’t home when Victor returns. A scribbled note from Yurio reveals that Yuuri called and asked him to take care of her for the night. The man really thought of everything.

Yuuri…

Victor flops face down on the couch, which does only bad things to his headache. Yuuri doesn’t want to see him anymore because he’s afraid of liking him too much. How stupid is that?

And Victor definitely has feelings for Yuuri. The more he thinks about it, the more he knows it to be true. He’s not in love, but every time he thinks of Yuuri, bumping his elbow when they looked at pictures of Lishniy, taking care of him while he was drunk, painting a picture on the ice with his blades…

Victor fell hard for him once. He’s teetering on the edge of falling again.

But Yuuri doesn’t want that. He made it very clear. Victor’s feelings are unrequited. Unrequote? Victor massages his temples, wishing the aspirin wasn’t all the way in the kitchen.

What’s he supposed to do now? He’s not even sure there’s anything to do. He and Yuuri had a bad breakup. That’s the end of it.

…Right?

Victor does the only thing he can think of when he can’t make sense of his life. He reaches for his phone, miles away on his coffee table, and calls Chris.

He blinks miserably when Chris’s face fills the screen. He hadn’t meant to Facetime him, not while his face is pressed into the couch cushions and he’s obviously hung over.

Chris takes one look, shakes his head, and tuts. “Have a little fun at Yakov’s party last night, did we?”

He sits in his sunroom today, massive windows letting in all the morning light from outside. When Victor visits, it’s his favorite place to be. Chris has a book sitting on the table next to him, and his glasses rest on his nose. He looks positively ethereal and Victor looks like he’s been hit by a truck.

“No fun,” Victor mumbles. The couch pushes his mouth into a crooked pout. “Only tragedy.”

His friend cocks an eyebrow. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the seventeen drunken texts I received from you last night?”

Victor pushes his face deeper into the couch and lets his phone fall onto the cushion, providing Chris with a lovely view of the ceiling. He lets out a moan and Chris laughs.

“Sit up, my beautiful disaster, and tell me what happened.”

So Victor hoists himself up and pulls himself out of his funk to tell Chris the whole story of last night. It doesn’t take very long, since he doesn’t remember most of it.

When he finishes, Chris is quiet for a moment. “So you’re telling me you have feelings for Yuuri?”

Victor nods. “Yes.” He knows for sure now.

“Well,” he says with a sigh, “I can’t say I’m surprised.” Then he starts to laugh. “It’s pretty funny though, yeah? That Yuuri wants to cut things off because he’s afraid of developing feelings, but you already have?”

“Yes,” Victor says through clenched teeth. “I see the irony.”

Chris’s laughter fades and he levels Victor with a knowing smile. “So what are you going to do?”

Victor blows his bangs out of his hair. It was the question he’d been mulling over all morning. “That’s why I called you. I have no idea.”

“Do you want to give it another shot with Yuuri?” Chris watches him carefully, and when Victor hesitates, Chris clarifies. “Don’t think about what Yuuri said. Do you want to give it another shot?”

Victor runs a hand through his hair, miserable. “Perfect world? Yes, I really do.”

Chris slides his glasses down his nose to look at Victor over the frames. “So when Yuuri assumed you didn’t, why didn’t you correct him?”

“I couldn’t do that, Chris!” Victor gives him a look of utter disbelief. “He’s sitting in front of me telling me outright that he doesn’t want to develop feelings for me. I can’t just tell him I already have feelings for him!”

“Why not?”

Victor sputters. “Because he’d reject me! ‘Neither of us want that,’ that’s what he said.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “He said that before he had all the information. He assumes you don’t have feelings for him.”

Victor shakes his head. “Yeah, which is why this sucks so bad. We’re not supposed to have feelings for each other. He’s doing the right thing here.”

“Okay. Let me tell you something that I’ve learned since I’ve been married.” Chris takes off his glasses and looks right into the webcam. “These games that you think you have to play before you get into a relationship? They’re stupid. The only right thing to do in this situation is to be straightforward with Yuuri and tell him how you feel.”

Victor opens his mouth to argue, but what comes out is a quiet, “What if it doesn’t matter?”

Chris leans back in his seat. “Then at least you’d know, and you can move on with your life. You can’t be afraid to put yourself out there, even if it means getting hurt.” He puts his head in his hand, looking at the camera with a level of wisdom that Victor doesn’t possess. “And, if you think about it, wasn’t that part of the reason you broke up in the first place? You couldn’t tell Yuuri about the trouble you were having, and that isolated him?”

Victor gives Chris a dirty look that’s really just for fun. “Shut up.”

Chris laughs. “Communication, Victor. The reason people preach about it is because it’s important.”

* * *

 

The next day, Victor swivels in his desk chair, looking out at the street from his office’s lone window. It’s not much of a view, just a nondescript building across the street, but looking outside helps him think.

He’s been mulling over Chris’s advice all night. Deep down, he knows Chris is right. Now that he knows it’s possible for Yuuri to want to be with him again, he can’t be at peace until he knows for sure that Yuuri’s completely done with him. They need to have a talk.

As much as Victor hates the idea, as much as he hates having awkward conversations where he has to be the vulnerable one… this is for Yuuri. If it means another shot at Yuuri, he will do what he has to do.

There’s only one problem. Yuuri doesn’t want to talk to Victor anymore.

He had enough trouble getting Yuuri to answer his emails all those months ago. The few texts Victor sent out during the blizzard in Moscow were met with one word answers. He could call, but he doubts Yuuri would be very happy about it.

Besides, this is really the kind of conversation they should be having face to face. It always put Victor more at ease when he could read Yuuri’s body language. And if they were face to face, Yuuri would see that he’s serious.

But now they won't have the chance to be in the same room until at least next season. And maybe not even then, depending on whether Katya and the triplets share any events. It's not like Victor can just hop on a plane and show up in Hasetsu randomly, like he did the first time. He has a job, a responsibility to Katya now.

A sharp ring interrupts his thoughts. Shaking off his surprise, he picks up. “Victor Nikiforov.”

“Mr. Nikiforov, hello, it's Milena Borodin, FFKK Office of Public Affairs.”

“Oh.” Victor blinks. Why is the Figure Skating Federation of Russia calling him? What did he do this time? He puts on a polished smile, even though the woman can’t see him. When it comes to schmoozing the paper pushers at the FFKK, Victor’s a pro. “Hello, Ms. Borodin. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. What happened to Eva?”

“There’s been some shuffling here at the main offices. I’m the new head of Public Affairs, as of a week ago.”

No wonder she’s talking like she’s got a stick up her butt. Victor’s only halfway paying attention, still wracking his brain for what he might have done to upset the FFKK. “Well, congratulations on the new position.”

“Thank you.” There’s a shuffling on the other end of the line, probably the rustling of paper. “It’s gearing up to be another busy week, so I’d like to get down to business. I'm calling about your student, Katya Andreevna.”

“Oh,” Victor says again, straightening up. He furrows his brows in confusion. Katya’s so well behaved.

Oh. Oh right.

Yeah, he should have been expecting this.

“We're growing concerned over her online presence,” Milena says as if she's reading Victor’s mind. “She's been saying some… less than professional things to the Twitter account shared by Axel, Lutz, and Loop Nishigori.”

“Right,” Victor sighs. “I've been trying to work on that.”

“Yes.” A pause. “Mr. Nikiforov, this behavior has been going on for the better part of a year. We’ve been very patient.”

“I know, I know.” Victor runs his hand through his bangs. “It's just, they're so young…”

“Regardless, the FFKK expects all its athletes to conduct themselves professionally while in the public eye. I trust you know the lecture well enough by now that I don't have to repeat it?” It’s not really a question. Even if Milena is new, she’s undoubtedly heard from coworkers about Victor’s long-standing rebellion to the FFKK’s opinions.

Victor clears his throat to keep the amusement out of his voice. “No. I don't need to hear the lecture.”

“Here's the thing, Mr. Nikiforov. If this behavior is still going on by the time Grand Prix assignments are being chosen… she could be facing disqualification.”

And just like that, this stops being a game. He had known disqualification was a possibility, but hearing it stated out loud by an official is unnerving.

Victor clenches his jaw. “I understand.”

“There’s more,” Milena says, hesitating for the first time in the formal conversation. “Katya Andreevna is one of our scholarship skaters, so we at the FFKK have an invested interest in her success.”

“Yes?” Victor picks up a nearby pencil and taps the eraser against his desk in a frantic rhythm. Will this conversation never end?

“If the ISU chooses disqualification for Katya, we will be forced to rethink your coaching arrangement.”

The pencil freezes in midair. “What do you mean?”

“We may have to find another coach, one who’s better equipped to handle these… behavior problems,” Milena says, and Victor sees red. Who does this new bitch think she is? She’s been there a week, and she wants to fire him? He’s Victor Nikiforov!

At his silence, Milena adds, “Please don’t take this personally, Mr. Nikiforov. Not everyone is cut out to be a coach. Perhaps you could consider announcing, or perhaps judging?”

Victor hisses a breath in through gritted teeth. It takes every ounce of self control he has to keep from yelling. “I don’t need to consider other options. I’ll take care of this.”

Milena sighs. “I'll bid you good day, then.”

“Goodbye.”

Victor practically slams down the receiver and immediately texts Katya to see him in his office when she’s done with her tutor. He feels too restless to sit, so he stands and paces, furious.

Perhaps the most infuriating thing is that Milena isn’t totally wrong. The online fight had been raging far too long, and as a coach, he should have been on top of it.

In fact, he had almost forgotten about Katya and the triplets. With everything that had gone on with Yakov’s party, he’d even neglected to check Twitter the past week or so. Who knows how bad their fighting had gotten when Victor wasn’t looking? He could look right now, but he doesn’t care to check. It won’t matter soon.

Eventually Katya bounces into the room, but stops short when she sees the look on Victor’s face. “What?” she says.

He motions for her to sit across from him at the desk. When they’re both seated, he levels a glare at her. “Was I not clear when I said to stop fighting with the Nishigori’s?”

Katya squirms in her seat. “Maybe? I mean, you talked to me about it ages ago, but you haven’t said anything recently, so I thought—”

“That it was okay to ignore my direct orders? Because enough time had passed?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Katya mumbles, her gaze drifting to away from him.

Victor leans forward over the desk, stares at her until she looks him in the eye. “Is this nothing but a joke to you?” He asks quietly, so she knows he’s serious. “I just had a call from the FFKK. They warned me that if you don’t stop, you’ll risk disqualification from the Grand Prix Series next season.”

To her credit, Katya looks stricken. “I… I didn’t realize…” she sputters.

“I don’t see how that’s possible, since I distinctly remember telling you that the ISU was going to get involved.” Victor realizes he’s being a little hard on Katya, that he’s being a little too curt, but he’s got so much on his mind right now. He just wants to take care of one of his problems, to ease some of his stress. “I want you off social media for the time being. No Twitter, no Facebook, no Snapchat, no nothing.”

Katya’s mouth drops open. “What? No!”

“Yes. You’ve shown that you can’t handle the responsibility. I've given you plenty of chances.”

Katya’s eyes squeeze shut. “That's not fair. You can’t do that!”

Victor barks out a laugh. “I sure as hell can. I’m your coach! It’s my job to protect your image.” Katya opens her mouth to argue, but he pushes on. “You don't have the luxury of doing and saying whatever the hell you want online. You have a responsibility to your country and your fans. You’re not a normal kid, so stop acting like one!”

Katya blinks in surprise.

“Do you know what will happen to your career if you get disqualified? To _my_ career?”

Katya’s looking away, her eyes filling quickly with tears. “Is that it, then? You're only worried about your reputation.”

“No, I ruined my reputation myself, a long time ago. I can tell you exactly how much it sucks!” The statement is so true and so rarely said out loud that some self-hatred leaks into his voice, and Katya cringes. “You’re going to throw away all your hard work, over what? Some stupid online fight?” He sits back in his chair, crosses his arms. “Get offline. End of discussion.”

Katya doesn’t hesitate. She grabs her bag and storms out of his office. Victor looks out his window and sees her running down the street, tears streaming down her cheeks. He leans forward, puts his head on his knees, and tries to slow down his breathing.

An hour later, Victor watches all Katya's social media profiles go dark.

* * *

 

Yakov's not around to give coaching advice anymore. He's somewhere warm and sunny, celebrating his freedom in style. Victor has no mentor to fall back on now. He is the mentor.

And he's doing a really sucky job.

He's halfway to the skaters dorm to find Katya when Yurio texts.

_"You're an idiot."_

For once, Victor agrees with him. Before he can text back, a second text comes through.

_"Come get your girl. She's weeping all over my cat."_

So Victor switches directions and heads toward Yurio and Otabek’s apartment.

When he knocks, Yurio answers but blocks his way in.

“Are you insane?” He demands, pushing Victor back so they're both standing in the hallway. He shuts the door behind him so they have some privacy. “What were you thinking?”

“I… I don't know.” Weariness wears hard on his voice, making his words thin and weak.

“ ‘You’re not a normal kid?’ ‘You have a responsibility to your country?’ Don't you remember Yakov saying the exact same things to you? Don't you remember how it made you feel?” Yurio levels his gaze and says solemnly, “I do.”

“I know, I know!” Victor leans against the nearest wall, rakes his hands through his hair. “It's a terrible thing to say to a child. But I didn't know what else to say.”

“How about anything except ‘You're fourteen, time to grow up now’?”

“She just wouldn't listen.” Victor slides down the wall into a squat. “And I was so mad, I couldn't think straight. It was the only thing I knew would work.”

Yurio huffs out an impatient breath. “Yeah, well, it was a shitty thing for Yakov to say to us, and it was a shitty thing for you to say to Katya. You owe her an apology.”

“I know.” Victor doesn't move to do it, though. He stares at the wall across the hall, trying to sort out the malady of conflict going on in his head.

Yurio throws his head back and groans. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“No.” Victor sighs. “Yes.”

Yurio steps back from the wall and towers in front of him. “People really hate it when you do this, you know.”

Victor’s eyebrows knit together, and he glances up at Yurio. “What?”

“This thing you do when something's bothering you and instead of talking about it, you keep it to yourself. It’s something a teenager would do.” Yurio gives a dry laugh. “You’re the one who needs to grow up, not Katya.”

Victor instantly feels defensive. “I don’t do that!”

Yurio kicks at his shoe, sending shock waves up to Victor’s knee. “Idiot! Yes you do!” His face is stormy. “You used to do the same thing with Katsudon. You wouldn't want to worry him so you'd just… clam up. And then when it got to be too much, you'd lash out over something stupid.” Yurio shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down the hall. “He used to tell me about it all the time.”

This is news to Victor. He hadn’t known Yuuri confided in Yurio during their breakup. He can’t help but feel a little annoyed about it as he stands up. “Why didn't he talk to me?”

Yurio rolls his eyes. “Because you were an asshole and wouldn't talk to him.”

Communication, just like Chris had said. Apparently both Victor and Yuuri had sucked at it. Yuuri’s actions may be out of Victor’s control, but Victor can take steps to become a better person. And if he wants to be worthy of a second chance with Yuuri, he has to try.

He pushes past Yurio and enters the apartment. “I have to talk to Katya.”

Yurio scoffs. “‘Bout time.”

* * *

 

When Victor enters Yurio’s living room, he instantly feels a hundred times more guilty than he already did. Katya is sitting on the couch, Yurio's cat, Potya, in her arms. She stokes his fur mindlessly. Her eyes are rimmed with red and she looks even more like a child than she usually does. Otabek is sitting next to her, rubbing her back.

“Hey,” Victor says weakly. The two of them look up, and then Katya looks away and rubs at her cheeks. Otabek holds Victor's gaze, though, his expression unreadable. His expression is always unreadable. “Katya, can I talk to you?”

She still doesn't make eye contact, but she nods. Otabek gives her one more pat on the back, then gets up and disappears into a bedroom.

Victor takes his spot next to Katya on the couch, giving her a few extra inches than Otabek did. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to decide how to start. Finally, he lands on, “I'm sorry.”

No reaction from Katya, but he can tell she's listening, so he continues. “You’re only fourteen, and it’s wrong for me to put so much pressure on you. You're under enough pressure as it is.”

It sounds a little cliché, even to Victor. Katya doesn’t move, so she’s clearly not buying it. He’s going to have to do a better job.

So he takes a deep breath and dives into the hard part. “What I said earlier, about you ruining us both… my job doesn't depend on you. If you wanted to quit, I'd be okay.”

Katya looks up sharply. “You mean if I want to quit, there'd be other skaters ready to take my place?”

Victor reels. Is that what he'd said? He quickly backtracks. “That's not what I mean at all! I just mean…” he sighs. “I know what it's like to give up your childhood for the sake of the sport. And if it's something you don't want to sacrifice, I understand. But if you do want to continue, we have to be a team, all right?”

“I don't want to quit,” Katya mutters. “But I don't want my head chewed off every time I do something you don't like.”

Victor sighs. “I promise I won’t chew your head off again, but we’re a team here, and you have to listen to me. I’ve been around the rink a time or two. Sometimes I know what I’m talking about.” He gives her a half-smile. “So at least try, okay?”

Katya looks at him sideways through swollen eyes. “If I say yes, can I get back online?”

He frowns. “…No, not yet.” Even after all that had happened, Victor still believes he’d made the right call about that. Katya visibly deflates, sniffing.

“I didn’t even get to upload the pictures from Yakov’s party yet,” she says miserably.

Her tone melts his heart a little. “I’ll try to think of a compromise. Maybe there’s another way to keep the ISU off our backs.” When Katya doesn’t perk up, he says, “You could show me the pictures now. It’d be like watching a livestream of my reaction, but I’ll be sitting right here next to you.”

An olive branch. Katya gives him a tiny smile. “You’re so old. Don’t be stupid.”

Victor grins back as they fall into their normal back-and-forth. “I’m not old,” he says.

“Bullshit!” says Yurio in the next room.

Victor and Katya both laugh, the tension lifted.

Victor pokes her side. “Okay, let’s see those pictures.”

After Otabek and Yurio hear the laughing, they wander in to see the photos too. The evening soon turns into a trip down memory lane for the adults. They take turns swapping stories about various skaters in the pictures, reminiscing about who dated who, which coach refused to work with which skater. Katya was on the edge of her seat, apparently finding old skating gossip far more interesting than Victor expected.

“Georgi’s wife is getting pretty big,” Yurio notes, leaning over Katya’s phone. “When’s she due again?”

“Hmm,” Victor taps his lip. “September, I think?”

“I’m glad he found someone,” Otabek says, a small smile playing on his lips. “He always struck me as…”

“Desperate?” Yurio suggests.

“No,” Otabek says. “Just… incomplete. Like he had so much love to give and no one to give it to.”

“So, desperate.” Yurio nods. Otabek sighs good-naturedly.

“He couldn’t have been like that all the time,” Katya says. “What was he like when he was young, like when he was in Juniors?”

Victor hums. “He had a different coach for Juniors. He didn’t come to Yakov until his senior debut.”

“But you must have seen him at competitions and stuff?”

Victor laughs. “He was a little jerk. So dramatic and heavy on the makeup. I didn’t care for him much.”

Katya looks shocked. “But then you became such good friends! What changed?”

“We became rinkmates.” Victor shrugs.

Katya still looks confused, but Otabek and Yurio are nodding.

“Yeah,” Yurio says. “When you spend every day on the ice with someone, you kind of have to become a team. The torture of training bonds you.”

“I practically grew up with JJ,” Otabek says, and Yurio gags. “There’s just something about being rinkmates. You can’t help but be friends.”

Victor stares into space, an idea forming in his mind. “Rinkmates…” he says, and everyone looks at him. “Rinkmates! That’s it!” He jumps to his feet. “We have to go to Hasetsu!”

“ _What?_ ” Katya and Yurio say at once.

“Don’t you see?” Victor exclaims. “That’s how we stop the malicious online comments from the triplets! We turn them into our rinkmates!”

Katya’s already shaking her head. “No, no, no…”

But Otabek is nodding. “It’s not a bad idea.”

Yurio rolls his eyes. “It’s a terrible idea.”

“Why?” Victor challenges. “You just said it yourself. They’ll become a team.”

Yurio raises an eyebrow. “And I suppose this has nothing to do with Katsudon?”

Well, yes, but… why shouldn’t Victor try to solve all his problems at once? “Of course not,” he lies. “I’m a coach, first and foremost. Katya is my main concern.”

Yurio snorts like he doesn’t believe him, but the corners of Katya’s eyes perk up a little at the declaration of loyalty. “It’ll be good,” Victor promises her. “It’ll work, I swear.”

“It doesn’t sound like very much fun,” Katya says doubtfully.

“It will be,” Victor assures her. “And maybe Yuuri can help choreograph a step sequence for one of your programs for next season.”

This changes Katya’s outlook immediately. Her eyes grow wide at the possibility.

“He’s going to love this,” Yurio says sarcastically. Victor suspects the two may have spoken about him between Yakov’s party and now. He knows they talk on the phone periodically. “Please tell me you’re not staying at his family’s inn, too.”

Victor looks down at Yurio, still lounging on the couch, as if he’s stupid. “Well, Yurio, it’s the only inn in town.”

Yurio groans, stroking Potya on the head. “This is going to blow up in your face so bad…”

Victor grins at the ceiling, amazed at how perfectly this is all coming together. “No, it won’t. You’ll see.”


	11. Going To Hasetsu

* * *

_**@sukeota3sisters** Guess someone couldn't take the heat. #shesoutofthekitchen #tripletpower_

* * *

 

Because Victor doesn’t know how to do anything halfway, he and Katya are on the train from Tokyo to Hasetsu just four days later. Exhausted from the flight, Katya has nodded off against Victor’s arm, but Victor stares out the window and watches the Japanese countryside whiz by. His leg that is farther away from Katya bounces restlessly, and luckily with the movement of the train, it doesn’t bother her.

Victor can’t help but feel a little nervous. Yurio has gotten into his head. He can’t help but think about how Yuuri will react to his sudden appearance in Hasetsu.

When he called Yu-topia Katsuki to reserve a few rooms for this trip (and hopefully to avoid another stay in an old banquet room), he couldn’t help but feel relieved when Mari was the one to take his reservation. She had been surprised to hear from him, of course. They hadn’t talked in six years. Much to Victor’s chagrin, Yuuri had gotten his family in the break-up. Along with the heavenly hot springs. Not fair.

Victor had treaded carefully on the phone with Mari, unsure how strongly she felt about Victor breaking her little brother’s heart and all. But Mari had seemed pleasant enough once she got over her initial shock. Maybe six years had been enough time for everyone. Maybe there were no residual bad feelings toward Victor from the Katsuki family.

…But maybe there were?

It’s hard to imagine that Hiroko and Toshiya will welcome Victor with open arms after what happened between him and their son. Yuuri probably wasn’t in too great of shape when he returned home after their breakup. Neither was Victor, to be honest. He was an absolute mess. But no one in Hasetsu had seen that. To them, maybe it seemed like Victor had left Yuuri on the curb in the rain, discarded like yesterday’s trash.

Victor cringes at the thought. He would never do that to Yuuri, but that’s what Yuuri’s fans seem to think. Victor has become very unpopular with that particular group. Maybe the Katsuki family feels the same way.

But then again, Yuuko had greeted him happily. She had gathered him in a warm hug, talked to him like they’d never been apart. She was Yuuri’s best friend and mother to the triplets, who Katya hadn’t been particularly kind to online. But she didn’t hold anything against him, or so it would seem. If Yuuko isn’t mad at Victor, could he take that as an indication that no one else in Hasetsu would be either?

Victor sighs, looks out at a field of rice. He hadn’t tried to email Yuuri about his visit. He wants to have a conversation about their relationship, but he didn’t want to tell Yuuri about it. It would just make him anxious. No, it had been better to let Mari tell Yuuri that Victor was coming.

Was it a cowardly move on Victor’s part? Yes. Yes it was.

Still, it was kind of for the best. He hadn’t told Yuuri he was coming the first time. This would be the same thing! Something they could laugh about later. ‘Oh, Victor, I can’t believe you showed up in my hot spring _again_ …’

Yeah. It would be funny. And besides, Mari has had days to get Yuuri used to the idea. It would be fine.

But if Victor was being completely honest, showing up to the empty train platform with no one there to meet them was a tad disconcerting.

* * *

 

Victor and Katya enter Yu-topia with several bags in each hand. It’s a little hard to handle Lishniy as well as the bags, especially since the black poodle is extra energetic from being cooped up in her crate for the whole flight, and then again for the train ride. She pulls at the leash around Victor’s wrist, tugging his luggage off course. He lets go of the suitcase before it hits the wall and leaves a mark.

He grabs Lishniy’s collar in one hand and takes off his shoes with the other, then straightens and looks around. The foyer to the inn is vacant, but he can hear the TV in the dining room. He wonders if he should call out, but he’s a little afraid Yuuri will be the one to hear it. And since Yuuri didn’t come to get him at the station, well, Victor can guess how his reception will go.

Luckily, they’re only alone in the foyer for a few seconds. Hiroko’s head peeks around the corner and immediately brightens when she sees Victor.

“Vicchan!” she exclaims, rushing forward to greet them.

Victor smiles at the old nickname. “Hi, Hiroko! It’s good to see you!”

Victor’s worries on the train seem to have all been for naught, because Hiroko looks thrilled to see him. “Toshiya, Mari!” she calls. The absence of her son’s name is not lost on Victor, and he wilts a little. Hiroko doesn’t notice, though, and grins at the three of them. “We were so excited to hear you wanted to come back and visit,” she says.

“Yes, well, I’m here to work, as always.” He smiles at Hiroko as if sharing an inside joke. “You know me.”

“I don’t know this one, though.” Hiroko kneels on the floor, smiling at Lishniy. “Are you thirsty, little one? Have you had a rough day?”

“That’s Lishniy,” Victor explains.

“It’ll be nice to have a dog around again,” Hiroko says. “May I?” When she gestures to the collar, Victor nods and Hiroko unclips the leash, freeing Lishniy. She runs around the room, sniffing.

Victor turns to Katya, who is standing behind him, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot in her socks. For all the sass she gives Victor, she can be shy sometimes, especially when they travel, Victor’s noticed. “This is Katya, my student. Katya, this is Katsuki Hiroko.”

Hiroko shakes Katya’s hand. “We’re happy to have you, dear.” Katya can’t help but smile.

The quick thumping of light footsteps makes them all look up. A tiny, black-haired toddler runs into the room and takes stock of the guests before his eyes land of Lishniy. His eyes widen.

“Oh,” Hiroko says softly just before the toddler lets out a scream that could wake the dead. She takes a step toward him, but Mari gets there first, appearing suddenly from the hallway.

She scoops the child into her arms just as Lishniy’s curiosity gets the better of her. The poodle lurches forward to sniff the toddler, who attempts to climb onto Mari’s shoulders, tears streaking down his face. “Shh, Jiro!” she soothes, trying to hold him still. Victor hurries forward to take Lishniy by the collar and pull her back. “Sorry, Victor. Jiro’s afraid of dogs.”

“Lishniy!” Victor scolds. “Sit. Sit, Lishniy.” Lishniy pointedly ignores him, but her interest drifts to the guests’ shoes, lined up by the door, so Victor lets her go. “I’m sorry,” he says, straightening. “If I had known, I would have left her at home.”

Mari shrugs, shifting Jiro to her other arm. “Actually, I’m hoping it’ll help him get over his fear.”

Jiro buries his face in Mari’s shirt and mumbles a phrase in Japanese that Victor doesn’t recognize.

“No, that’s a _nice_ doggy,” Mari corrects him patiently before glancing back up at Victor and Katya. “We speak Japanese to him most of the time, but we speak English, too. He can understand it, but he doesn’t use it yet.”

“Hi, Jiro!” Katya says chipperly, her previous shyness forgotten. She ducks into his line of sight as he huddles in Mari’s arms. “He’s so cute. How old is he?”

“Two.” Mari smiles. “I’m Mari, by the way.”

“Katya.” She starts playing peek-a-boo with Jiro.

“Katya, huh? You look like you’d be a great babysitter.” Mari winks at Victor.

“That’s enough, that’s enough!” Toshiya scolds, peeking around the doorframe of the dining room. “They haven’t even gotten inside yet. Hello, Victor!”

“Hello!” Victor waves at him, but Toshiya’s already whisked away, probably tending to the needs of a guest.

“Of course, you must want to unpack!” Hiroko gasps. “Come on, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

Before Victor and Katya can leave the foyer, Lishniy starts barking. Jiro whimpers and Mari takes a step back from the dog. Lishniy runs over to the door, which opens after a moment, revealing Yuuri.

Yuuri. Even though Victor just saw him two weeks ago, his heart still skips a beat. Yuuri’s wearing a powder blue button-down shirt that’s just a tiny bit snug around his chest and a pair of jeans that probably cup is ass just right. Victor can’t be sure until he turns around, but it’s a pretty safe bet.

Victor had forgotten how enamored he used to be with Yuuri. To experience the feeling again is equal parts fun, nostalgic, and terrifying.

“What the—” Yuuri says as he’s nearly bowled over by Lishniy. He barely manages to keep his footing, his mouth dropping open in surprise. His eyes flicker to the bags in the entryway, then to Victor. His face turns from confusion to shock. Then he glances back at the bags and turns indignant. “You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

“Yuuri!” Hiroko greets her son as if he hadn’t said anything at all. “Look who’s here! It’s Victor.”

 _Look who’s here?_ But… Yuuri had known he was coming, hadn’t he? Victor looks around the room at the Katsuki family, the fake smiles directed at Yuuri.

It’s clear. They hadn’t told Yuuri that Victor was coming.

“I can see that,” Yuuri tells his mother, a deep frown on his face. “Why?”

In an attempt to save the Katsuki’s from further blame, Victor steps forward. “I thought it would be a good idea for Katya to train with the triplets.”

“You… you thought…,”Yuuri’s mouth flaps as he tries to form a complete sentence. “So you just _showed up_ , uninvited?”

“Oh, no, dear.” Hiroko is quick to jump to Victor’s defense. “He booked a room. He’s a guest.”

“He booked…” Yuuri trails off, clearly at a loss. “When?”

“Last Thursday,” Mari says.

Yuuri rounds on her. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Oh, I thought to tell you.” She hitches Jiro up higher on her hip. “And then I thought about how you’d react, and I decided not to.”

Yuuri looks around the room, as if he’s unsure who to be mad at first. Finally, he approaches Victor, who has to consciously stop himself from taking a step back. Yuuri speaks quietly, as if to keep their conversation private, even though everyone can clearly hear them. “I asked you to respect my space, and you took that as an invitation to come to my _house_?”

The tension is clear in Yuuri’s voice, and he’s shaking with anger. Victor’s only ever seen him this mad in the last few weeks of their relationship. He puts his hands up in defense. “Let me explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Yuri says with finality. He grabs the leash that’s dangling from Victor’s arm and clips it to Lishniy. “I’m going out.” And with those dark words, he and Lishniy storm away through the door.

Everyone stares at the empty entryway in silence for a minute. Finally, Victor says weakly, “He… he took my dog.”

“Yeah,” Mari says, setting Jiro down on the floor. “He must not be _that_ mad at you.”

* * *

 

Victor really wants to give Yuuri space to cool off. He truly does. But he can’t stand being in Hasetsu, so close to Yuuri, knowing that Yuuri’s mad because of him. They’ve had too much unresolved anger in the past. This time, Victor’s going to set things right.

So he leaves the inn almost as soon as he’s unpacked. He knows where Yuuri probably went. He took Lishniy, so he’s probably at the beach. It was his favorite place to take Makkachin.

Sure enough, when Victor walks around the familiar bend in the walking path surrounding Hasetsu, he hears his dog barking. Makkachin always barked at the seagulls here, but he knows that Lishniy barks at the ocean, running up to the water line and then scooting back nervously when each new wave comes in, playing a game of chicken that she usually loses. Being here in Hasetsu, at this particular beach, makes Victor miss Makkachin, even though he loves Lishniy and finds her antics amusing.

He sees Yuuri silhouetted against the ocean, sitting in the sand with his knees drawn to his chest. So familiar. It’s Yuuri’s place to think. Victor aches when he sees Yuuri’s posture, reads the stress in between his shoulders. The two of them had a conversation here, a long time ago, that turned out to be a small turning point in their relationship. Victor hopes this talk goes as well as that one did.

Yuuri doesn’t acknowledge Victor’s approach, but he must hear it, because he doesn’t startle when Victor steps into his line of sight. For a second, Victor just stands beside him as they watch Lishniy dance with the waves. He wonders if Yuuri finds the sight as bittersweet as he does.

He’s glad that Yuuri hasn’t told him to go away yet, so he breaks the silence. “Hey,” he says, looking down at him.

Yuuri sighs. “Hey.” He keeps his eyes on the shore.

“Can I sit down?”

Yuuri shrugs. “I guess.”

Victor looks down at his feet, then moves to sit directly in front of Yuuri instead of next to him, his back toward the sea.

Yuuri lifts his head from his arms. “What are you doing?”

Eye contact is important for communication, Victor had read somewhere. He looks directly at Yuuri. “Listening.”

Yuuri wrinkles his nose, confused. “To what?”

“To you. Back at the inn, I got the feeling that you wanted to say more, but your family was right there. So.” Victor crosses his legs and settles in. “Go for it.”

Yuuri stares hard at Victor, as if trying to figure out his angle. “I do have more to say,” he says slowly. “But I don’t really think there’s much point.”

“Why not?”

Yuuri scowls at him. “Because even though you’re trying to listen, you don’t know how.”

“Yes I do,” Victor insists. Can’t Yuuri see him, sitting right here with rapt attention? Can’t Yuuri tell that he’s making a genuine effort?

“No you don’t,” Yuuri says, more forcefully. He’s still mad. Victor hadn’t given him enough time to cool off. “You never did!”

“What?” Now Victor’s utterly confused. Chris and Yurio had led him to believe the problem had been Victor’s inability to talk about his feelings. Now Yuuri’s saying Victor couldn’t listen? Which one was it?

Yuuri is shaking his head. “You would hear what I said, but you always did your own thing anyway!” He pounds the sand once in frustration. “Just like this. I told you I didn’t want to be friends with you, and a week later you’re in my house, chit chatting with my family like you own the place. You didn’t listen.”

Victor keeps his mouth shut. It’s pretty damning evidence.

Yuuri rubs his forehead with his hand. “You haven’t changed at all.”

The conversation isn’t going well so far, but this is Victor’s one chance to prove Yuuri wrong. “It may not look like it, but I’m trying. I’m trying to change.” Yuuri still hasn’t looked up at him, so Victor continues. “Some things have come to my attention in the last few weeks. When we were together, I kept everything inside and it wasn’t fair to you. I came to Hasetsu to fix that.”

Yuuri finally looks at him. “I don’t understand.”

“I have something to tell you.” Now Victor’s the one who looks away, suddenly uncomfortable. He’s been meaning to tell Yuuri the truth about his feelings ever since he got off the phone with Chris that day, but now that he’s here and Yuuri is sitting a few feet away, his instincts to clam up are taking over. It takes actual effort to power through.

“Yes?” Yurri says, waiting.

Victor glances back, sees Yuuri’s incredulous stare, sees those brown eyes he loves so much. Yuuri’s hair is even messier than normal from the salt and the wind. Victor loves him. Has never stopped loving him, not really. Maybe he lost the romantic love, lost it a long time ago, but he’ll always love Yuuri in some small corner of his heart.

And if he wants a chance at getting that romantic love back, he has to say the next few sentences out loud. So he takes a breath and makes them come out. “That day, at the hotel, you said you thought if we spent more time together, you might get feelings for me. You said neither of us wanted that.” Deep breath. “That was wrong. I want that. I already have feelings for you.” Yuuri is gaping at him and it’s distracting, so Victor looks down at the sand so he can finish. “I should have told you right there in the hotel room, but I didn’t, and I regretted it. That’s why I came to Hasetsu.”

After a moment of silence, he dares a glance at Yuuri, who’s staring at him. He’s wearing the same look of disbelief that was on his face when he first saw Victor a few hours ago. Disbelief, mixed with anger. And, just like then, he starts stumbling over his words again. “You… you have…” He stands up rakes his hands through his hair and manages to form a full sentence. “But I don’t want that!”

Victor’s heart sinks down into the cold, rough sand.

Yuuri stands up and starts pacing. “You can’t do this to me. You can’t just show up out of the blue and say you have feelings for me! What am I supposed to do with that information?”

Every word is a dagger. Victor can feel his face contorting in pain, so he keeps his eyes trained on the ground, face hidden behind his bangs. “Yuuri,” he whispers, but it’s probably too quiet for the other man to hear over the sound of the crashing waves.

“We made each other miserable, Victor.” Yuuri stops above him. “We dragged each other down.”

Victor shakes his head, clearing the look on his face before raising his eyes to meet Yuuri’s. “But we raised each other up, first. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

Yuuri looks out to the ocean. His hands are on his hips and he wears an exasperated look. He stays quiet for a long time, staring at the horizon. Lishniy gets tired of running around and lays down next to the two of them. Victor runs his fingers through her fur, hoping it’ll dull the anxiety that’s building the longer Yuuri stays silent.

Finally, Yuuri looks down at him. “Why are you here, Victor?” His voice is tired, worn. “Why was it so important to tell me this? Do you want to get back together?”

Victor almost denies it out of instinct, but then he remembers he’s supposed to be honest. He stands up so they’re eye level again and brushes the sand from his pants. “Maybe,” he says with a sigh. “But I’m not the only one to have an opinion, here. I wanted you to have all the information so that you can decide what you want to do.” He shrugs. “That’s it.”

“Okay…” Yuuri says. His eyes dart back to the ocean. “I don’t really know what to do, or what to say. This is a lot.”

Slowly, Victor realizes what Yuuri’s saying is not a no. It’s not a no. “I’ll wait,” Victor says immediately. “As long as you need, to work it out.”

“Okay,” Yuuri says again, shifting his weight nervously. “Can you take the dog home? I think I need to go to Minako’s, maybe, or the rink…” His expression changes suddenly. “Oh, god, do the triplets know Katya’s in town?”

Victor blinks. “I… I don’t know. I didn’t talk to Yuuko, so unless Mari did…”

Yuuri lets out a word in Japanese. Victor recognizes it as a swear, which is rare for Yuuri. He gives Victor a tired look. “Tomorrow will be fun.”

It’s a small peace offering, but Victor takes it. They share a small smile before parting ways.


	12. Rinkmates

* * *

_**@sukeota3sisters** Taking a break to focus on training. See you next season!_

* * *

 

The next day, Victor and Katya skip morning practice with the triplets in favor of getting over their jetlag. Victor knows from experience that an exhausted Katya can’t land any of her triples.

By the time Victor gets up and showers, it’s already noon. Despite the late hour, Victor still feels fatigued. Sleep had not come easily last night. Yuuri may not be mad anymore, but their conversation hadn’t actually ended on a particularly high note. The ball’s in Yuuri’s court now, and being so powerless makes Victor feel antsy.

 _Keep it together, Nikiforov,_ he thinks as he rubs his hair with a towel. _If this is what has to happen to get Yuuri back, so be it._

He has no idea if Katya’s up or not. She got the privilege of staying in one of the inn’s guest rooms in another wing, while Victor, much to his chagrin, was back in his old banquet room on the family’s side of the house. The Katsuki’s thought he’d be more comfortable in the familiar room, but… he’d really been hoping for a true guest experience this time around.

However, the room does have the added bonus of being near Yuuri’s room, so… silver lining.

Yuuri, who’s at home while the triplets are in school, must have heard him moving around, because he raps on Victor’s door and says, “Can I come in?”

Victor drapes his towel around his shoulders to protect his clothes from his still-dripping hair. “Sure.”

Yuuri enters, stands awkwardly just inside the doorway, and looks around. “I don’t know how they got the bed back in here without me noticing,” he says distantly, then smiles at Victor.

Victor can’t help smiling back at him, filled with relief. It seems Yuuri’s feeling better. He motions to the bed. “You can sit down, if you want.”

Yuuri does, but not before he closes the door behind him. Victor settles himself on the floor instead, breathing in the scent of the tatami mat. He’s missed that smell.

“Um,” Yuuri starts. He leans forward, hands on his knees. “I just wanted to apologize. For yesterday. I was… surprised.”

Victor waves a hand. “No need. I completely understand.” As if he hasn’t been obsessing about it all night.

“But still.” Yuuri shifts on the bed nervously. “And I’ve thought a little about what you said. You were honest, and that can’t have been easy, so I want to be honest with you, too.”

Victor bites his lip. “Okay.”

Yuuri takes a deep breath. “I just… I really don’t want to get back together with you.”

Victor’s eyes fall to the the bedskirt. He struggles to keep his face neutral. “Oh.”

“It’s just… I don’t know if it’s worth it to give it another shot,” Yuuri went on. “It scares me. Yeah, we were good for a while, but then when things got tough…”

The guilt pools deep in Victor’s stomach. “I withdrew,” he finishes for Yuuri.

“We both checked out,” Yuuri corrects him. “You don’t hold all of the blame.”

Victor shrugs.

When he doesn’t say anything, Yuuri continues. “There was some resentment going on, remember? It’s easy to think we’d do okay this time, but what if things get hard again?” Yuuri rubs his bad knee absentmindedly, and Victor hones in on the gesture. “I don’t think we can trust each other not to slip into what happened before.”

“That was a long time ago,” Victor points out. His eyes stay on Yuuri’s knee, even though Yuuri’s hand is nowhere near it anymore.

“It was,” Yuuri agrees. “Which is why I’m not saying no. I’m not saying yes,either,” he hurries to add when Victor meets his eyes. “I’m just saying it’s really, really hard to rebuild trust once it’s been lost.”

It makes Victor think. _Does_ he trust Yuuri? He’s attracted to him, of course, and he likes to be around him, but… Yuuri’s right. They both did things at the end of the relationship that hurt the other. Victor suddenly remembers Yuuri’s cold, distant eyes that pierced through him, remembers how that look made him feel. If they get back together, which Yuuri would he be committing to: the one at the beginning or end of their relationship?

“I see what you’re saying,” Victor says slowly. “So what do you want to do?”

“I think we should wait. Let these next few weeks play out, and see how it goes. See if, by the end, we think it’s even possible to start over.”

Victor finds himself nodding, because what else can he do? “Okay.”

* * *

 

“So,” Yuuri says to him as they watch Katya lace up her skates that afternoon. “How do you want to do this?”

“Tighter!” Victor commands his skater, rolling his eyes. She’s fourteen. She should know better.

Katya narrows her eyes at him. “Don’t micromanage!” She stands up and makes her way to the ice.

Victor lets out a frustrated groan as she tosses her skate guards on the floor. She knows that annoys him. He picks them up, sets them on the boards, then turns to Yuuri. “What?”

Yuuri combats the smile on his face and finally says, “Coaching. Do you want to stick to our own kids, or switch things up, or…?”

“Oh,” says Victor. “Well…” he looks out at Katya, skating a warm-up lap. “The goal here is to unite them, so maybe we should each coach them all, together?”

“Co-coaches?”

Victor grins. “Yeah. Co-coaches.”

“Well.” Yuuri leans his forearms against the boards. “I can already tell you the triplets’ daily routine is probably not as rigorous as Katya’s. They still go to school full-time.”

“Summer break is coming up, right?”

“In a week or two.”

“We’ll have to work them up to Katya’s level, then.” When Katya skates close enough to overhear, Victor purposely raises his voice. “She won’t be taking it easy just because it’s the off-season.”

Katya glares at him and does a triple flip, just to show him how absurd the insinuation really is.

Victor looks at Yuuri. “And if Lutz still lifts weights with Nishigori, I want Katya to get in on that, too.”

“They all do, actually.” Yuuri shrugs. “Loop joined in after Katya beat her in Russia, and then Axel felt left out.”

“Perfect.”

Yuuri looks over at him. “How long are you guys planning on staying, anyway?”

“Hey,” Victor yells out to Katya, “When are you going to visit your parents?”

“July!”

“Until July,” Victor says to Yuuri. “Of course, we may leave sooner if it doesn’t seem like things are working out. With the triplets, I mean.”

“Of course.” But they both know what Victor’s really talking about.

There’s a ruckus behind them, and Victor and Yuuri turn around to see the triplets enter the rink, skates slung over their shoulders. They’re laughing about something and bantering back and forth until Axel looks up and stops short.

“Victor Nikiforov?” she exclaims. One of her sisters almost runs into her, but stops just in time. “What is he doing here?”

“Wait a minute,” Lutz says. “Does that mean…?” Her face darkens as Katya skates up behind the coaches, leaning against the boards.

“Hello to you, too,” Katya says, mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Lutz the Klutz, right?”

“Katya,” Victor warns.

“Hey!” Loop yells at her. “Lutz can land a triple flip better than you can, now!”

Katya looks down on the three of them, quite a bit taller in her skates. “I’d like to see her try.”

The triplets immediately start putting on their skates. They seem to have forgotten their confusion over Katya’s arrival in favor of the challenge of competition.

“Hey, hey!” Yuuri exclaims, clapping his hands to get their attention. “None of that right now. Sit!”

The triplets are already sitting, all in a line on one bench, but they stop lacing up their skates and look at him.

Victor turns to his student. “You too, Katya. Sit down.”

She leaves the ice, puts on her skate guards, and sits on a second bench, as far away from the triplets as she can.

Victor paces in front of the girls, putting on his Strict Coach face. “I just want you four to know that you brought this on yourselves.” He looks each of them in the eye in turn, to show them that he’s serious. “I brought Katya here so you could work out your issues once and for all. I’ve already heard from the FFKK, and they’re threatening disqualification from the Grand Prix Series next year if this continues.” The triplets look stricken, so Victor asks Yuuri, “Have you heard from the JSF?”

“No,” Yuuri admits.

Strange. Katya was a more highly ranked skater than the triplets, but they were more well-known online. “Well, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.” He crosses his arms at the girls. “For the foreseeable future, you are rinkmates. You will help each other learn. You’ll skate together, run together, work out together.” He turns to Yuuri again. “Minako teaches them ballet?” At Yuuri’s nod, Victor adds ballet to the list.

“This is crazy,” Loop says. “We can’t train with her. She hates us!”

Yuuri steps forward. “And why is that, Loop?”

Loop doesn’t seem to have an answer, so Axel pipes up. “Because she’s a bully!”

Katya’s mouth snaps open in outrage. “I am not!”

Victor rolls his eyes. “Katya, you called Lutz a klutz just a few minutes ago.”

“I can’t help it,” she mumbles, crossing her arms and looking away. “It rhymes.”

Victor throws up his hands in exasperation, which Yuuri takes as his cue to take over. “You three aren’t innocent, either. If I’m not mistaken, you started all this?”

The three of them start arguing about whether or not writing an editorial for their blog constitutes ‘starting the fight’, but Yuuri stops them. “It’s not nice to critique skaters online! Especially when they’re doing things you can’t do yet.” He raises his eyebrows at them. “What would you do if, in a few years, Jiro started pointing out all the things you did wrong?”

Lutz and Loop look confused, but Axel immediately says, “I’d say he was just a stupid little kid.”

“Interesting,” Yuuri says. “Maybe you’ll get into a feud with him, next.”

The triplets look uncomfortable.

Victor chimes back in. “So consider this feud over. No more posting about each other, at all. I’ve already made Katya get off social media. I guess it’s up to Yuuri about what to do with you three.”

The triplets and Yuuri are staring at him with identical looks of disbelief.

“Victor,” Yuuri mutters quietly. “I don’t have a death wish.”

“No fair!” Katya immediately jumps to her feet. “If I can’t be online, why can they?”

Great. Now Victor’s caught in the middle. “I’m not their coach, I’m your coach. I make your rules, Yuuri makes theirs.”

“What happened to co-coaches?” Katya crosses her arms. “I heard you guys talking.”

Freaking kid should be a lawyer. Victor looks helplessly between her, Yuuri, and the triplets, unsure of how to proceed.

Finally, Yuuri sets his jaw. “Okay,” he says. “No social media for the triplets, either.”

They all start protesting at once. Katya looks triumphant.

“I mean it,” Yuuri raises his voice to talk over them. “Everything, Twitter, Youtube, the blog…”

“Tumblr, Snapchat, Facebook,” Katya supplies helpfully. Victor swats her arm lightly to silence her.

“You can put your profiles back up after Victor and I can trust you to be on without attacking each other.” Yuuri glances at Victor for support. “If you want back on, you have to get along.”

“That’s right.” Victor nods in confirmation.

Axel’s face turns red. “Mom!” she bellows, stomping into the lobby of the rink.

Yuuri sighs, raising a hand to his head as if he’s already getting a headache.

“Oh, my god,” Victor says to him. “Here I thought I had my hands full with Katya and… you have three of them!”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says. “It’s the worst.”

Axel comes stomping back in, Yuuko trailing behind her, and practically yells, “Mom says we have to do what Yuuri says!”

The other two triplets immediately open their mouths to argue, but Yuuko cuts them off. “Enough! Yuuri’s your coach. Either you listen to him, or you quit skating. Those are the options.” She stares at them until, one by one, they avert their eyes.

“Yes, Mom,” they say, downtrodden.

“After practice, then,” Victor says. “Lace up!”

As soon as the girls are out of earshot, Yuuko rounds her glare on the two coaches. “What the heck, guys?” she hisses. “Making them get off social media? Are you trying to ruin my life?”

“It was him!” Yuuri exclaims, pointing, and then scrambles to get on the ice, leaving Victor to deal with Yuuko alone.


	13. Life in Hasetsu

Over the next day or two, he and Yuuri establish a routine. They get up and have a morning practice session at the rink before the triplets have school, then he and Yuuri bring Katya back to the inn. Katya does her classes online, Yuuri works odd jobs around the inn, and Victor takes Lishniy for a walk. Then Victor spends the afternoon making calls, scouting for music and costumes and choreography for next season.

When Katya finishes with school, the three of them go back to the rink and work with just her until the triplets get there. After a few hours of afternoon practice, the girls all go to either ballet or the weight room, depending on the day. Yuuri goes to get some more work done at the inn and Victor has a little free time until they all reconvene for dinner.

Victor’s careful to give Yuuri space. As in, even more space than the first time he was here. He doesn’t ask Yuuri to spend time with him, doesn’t beg for sleepovers. He sits next to him at dinner if there’s a spot open, has normal small-talky conversations about their day. He’s determined to let Yuuri come to him this time. Yuuri already knows how Victor feels.

Things with the girls aren’t going much better. They’ve become overly friendly with each other, which Victor and Yuuri immediately recognize to be fake, just to get their social media accounts back. And the co-coaches aren’t buying it.

Even though it’s only been a few days, Victor can’t help but feel impatient. He’s never been one to just wait around, and it’s killing him. He tosses and turns on his third night in Japan, still partially jetlagged, but mostly just overwhelmed by his thoughts. His cell phone says 3 AM. He gets up, careful not to disturb Lishniy, and heads to the kitchen for a glass of water.

When he gets down there, he’s surprised to see the sliding door slid open, the bright light of the moon shining down on the tatami mats of the dining room. Mari’s outside, smoking. Her silhouette turns toward him when she hears him approach. “Watch the kid,” she says, nodding down the the floor. Jiro’s there, fast asleep.

Victor sidesteps his still form and joins her outside on the porch. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks.

She blows out smoke. “Mother of a two-year-old.” They both look back at Jiro. “He had a nightmare.”

“Poor thing.”

“Thanks for your sympathy, but I’ll survive.” They share a quiet laugh. “You want to sit down?”

They both approach the edge of the floor and take a seat. Mari stubs out her cigarette and fiddles with the pack, trying to decide whether to light up another one.

She speaks again. “You got something on your mind?”

Victor sighs. “Oh, you know.”

“My brother?”

“Your brother.”

“What else is new?” She opens the cigarette carton, closes it again. “You always had him on your mind. Is he the reason you came back here?”

Victor nods. Mari says nothing. She was always a little hard to read when it came to serious conversations.

Victor glances at her. “Are you mad at me?”

Mari doesn’t need him to explain the question. “Because you broke up with my brother?” She pulls out a cigarette, glances back toward her sleeping son, then puts the cigarette back. “Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Let me ask you something,” Mari said, putting the carton on the ground and turning to face him. “What was the breakup like for you? Afterward, I mean. How did you cope?”

Victor laughs humorlessly. “I didn’t. Well, not very well,” he said. “I’d lost my fiancé. I’d lost my passion for skating. I’d lost my winning streak, my champion status.” He shrugs and looks down at his hands, clenched loosely. “Without that stuff, who was I?”

Mari nods slowly. “That’s kind of what I figured,” she says. “That’s why I’m not mad. Yuuri was hurt, and so were you. No one came out unscarred. I can’t be mad about that. Just… sad, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Victor sighs. “I know what you mean.”

“So what did you do next?”

“Mope,” Victor laughs. “A lot of moping. I pretty much drove Yakov and Yurio and everyone else I knew crazy. Eventually, Yakov made me teach some of the novice classes at the rink, and I discovered it was fun. So I tried to keep busy, and eventually I turned to coaching.”

“It’s weird,” Mari says. “It’s weird how similar you two are. How your stories are almost identical.”

“Are they?” Victor hums, looking up at the moon. “I guess we just have a lot in common.”

Mari looks at him for a long moment. “Oh shit,” she groans. “You’re trying to get back together with him, aren’t you?”

The instinct to deny it dies on his tongue. The whole reason he came Hasetsu was to prove he can communicate, so communicate he shall. Even if Yuuri’s not around to witness it. “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“Yes!” she says, a little too quickly. “Well… probably. I don’t know. I just don’t want Yuuri to get hurt again.”

“Neither do I,” Victor replies.

Mari hums suspiciously and studies him. Finally, she grins. “You’re not going to get back together,” she says triumphantly. “I know my brother, and there’s no way he’ll give you a second chance. He’ll play things safe.” She picks up the carton of cigarettes and stands up. “Sorry, kid, but I don’t like your odds.”

Victor smiles at the dark Japan sky. “Well,” he says, “I’ve always loved a challenge.”

* * *

 

“Ugh,” Victor says, leaning over the boards, tapping his shoe against the floor. “Don't start practicing that step sequence again.”

Katya stops the messy footwork from her short program last year. “Well, come up with something new for me to practice, then.”

Victor gestures to the pad of paper in front of him, waving his pencil in the air. “I’m trying!”

Yuuri, overseeing Axel nearby, chuckles to himself. Even though he's on the ice with the girls, he's close enough that Victor hears him.

“Hey,” Victor points at him with his pencil. “Keep your opinions to yourself, Yuuri.” Yuuri laughs again at the teasing.

“So frustrating,” Victor mutters as Katya begins the step sequence again. “It took us all season to clean up your last step sequence. Is it going to take all season for your next one, too?” He calls the last part out to Katya, even though it's a rhetorical question.

“Depends,” she says, not pausing in her skating. “If you take forever to choreograph it, I won't have enough time.”

Victor puts his head in his hands dramatically, almost stabbing himself in the eye with the pencil.

“You should practice your figures, instead.” Yuuri's light suggestion makes Victor look up just in time to catch a sly glance from the man. “They do still teach figures in Russia, don't they?”

Victor straightens. “They do not, as a matter of fact. At least, I never taught her.” He looks at Katya. “Your old coach ever teach you figures?”

Katya shakes her head. “She said they were outdated.”

Victor nearly yells in frustration. No wonder her step sequences were never up to par. She was never drilled in the basics.

Yuuri is talking to her, though, so Victor keeps quiet. “If you practice your figures, you'll be able to apply them to any step sequence you will ever perform.” He calls over Loop to run Katya through some basic figures. Axel quickly joins in, showing off her favorites.

“Good call,” Victor says when Yuuri skates over to him. “Have them teach each other. Very sneaky, Yuuri.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri grins. “So… no figures, huh? Seems like a pretty significant gap in her education.”

He's still teasing. “Lots of coaches don't teach figures anymore,” Victor defends himself.

“But the great Victor Nikiforov?”

Victor rolls his eyes. “When she first came to me, she needed help with a lot of things. I was more focused on improving her spins, and getting her as many triples as possible before puberty. I guess her step sequences suffered.”

Lutz skates up, apparently eavesdropping on their conversation. “Why before puberty?” she asks.

“And you call yourself a skater otaku,” Victor laughs. “During puberty, girls gain weight here,” he brings his hands to his chest, mimicking boobs, “and here.” He pats his butt. “It affects balance while you're in the air, so if you don't master the jumps before puberty, it's unlikely you'll get them down after.”

Lutz shifts her weight to one foot and juts out her hip. “Ew,” she says matter-of-factly. “You're gross.” Then her expression turns thoughtful. “Will you help me get the lutz, then?”

“A lutz for Lutz. Let me put on my skates.”

He turns away, only to feel Yuuri's eyes on him. “What?” He asks.

“Nothing,” Yuuri says. “I guess I've just never seen you around kids this age before.”

“Well, believe me, this isn't the first time one of them’s called me gross.”


	14. Speed Skating

Evenings become a peaceful time for Victor and Katya. They spend the after-dinner time lounging on the tatami mats, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the kitchen staff and the other inn guests. Victor spends his evenings here because Yuuri was usually working, running food out to guests and washing dishes. Victor had offered to help, but Hiroko would hear none of it. Victor is a guest and Yuuri is getting paid. They are to stick to their assigned roles.

Aside from his desire to be around Yuuri, Victor also spends his evenings in the dining room because… well, that’s how he had spent his time here before. It feels familiar, like a habit. When he was Yuuri’s coach, the two of them just hung out in the dining room at night. He’d even spent some quality time with Yurio here, for that one week.

After Yuuri’s chores, he comes out and collapses on the tatami mats, or sits down across the table from Victor and pours him some sake. Victor often finds himself searching Yuuri’s face for answers during the evening. Nighttime feels more intimate, and he feels like he could glean some information from Yuuri’s body language. Is Yuuri treating him as a friend? Had he thought more about Victor’s admission of feelings? Victor is so anxious. What’s happening with Yuuri?

The only thing he can do is wait. So that’s what he does. Waits, and plays it cool.

One night, Victor’s sitting at one of the tables, laptop in front of him. He has some earbuds hooked up to it and he’s listening to playlists of music on YouTube. He leans back on the heels of his hands, his head tilted up towards the ceiling, eyes closed.

The right earbud is plucked from his ear, making him jump. Yuuri has settled down next to him at the table. It’s the closest they’ve been since… well, in a long time. Victor shifts awkwardly, but Yuuri doesn’t seem to notice.

“What are you listening to?” he asks, placing the earbud in his ear. The headphones are in their outside ears, leaving the ones closest to each other open. It serves to better hear each other, but Victor can’t help but notice it also keeps their faces close due to the length of the cord. It seems accidentally intimate. Or… not accidental?

Yuuri’s been peering at the screen, but he looks up at Victor when he remains silent. “Oh!” Victor startles. Yuuri’s eyes are so close. “I’m just trying to find some music for Katya’s short program this season.”

Yuuri nods thoughtfully and listens for a minute. Victor can feel his heat when he sits so close. He forces his eyes away, embarrassed that he’d get so worked up over such an innocent encounter.

“This doesn’t really sound like her,” Yuuri says finally. “Or you. I don’t think this is right.”

Victor almost forgot to pay attention to the music, but now that Yuuri’s brought it up, Victor knows he’s right. He’s too distracted to continue with any degree of productivity, so he pauses the music and pulls his earbud out. “Do you have any ideas for the triplets yet?”

Yuuri pulls his earbud out, too, and sets it gingerly on the table in front of them. Even though their mutual tether is gone, Yuuri still doesn’t move away. Victor’s arm is getting goosebumps, as if charged by the electricity he feels between them.

Yuuri shrugs. “A few. Lutz wants to skate to that power ballad from Frozen 2, and Loop wants something from Moana. So I’m going to try to work with that. It’s a start, anyway.”

“Oh no,” Victor says with a shudder. “Disney music?”

“What’s wrong with Disney music?” Katya asks. She’s sprawled out on the floor nearby, playing a game on her phone.

Yuuri twists around to look at her, touching his thigh against Victor’s in just the most subtle way. “Victor’s a snob,” he informs her.

“I’m not a snob!” Victor argues. “I just want my skaters to be taken seriously. I want more mature music for you,” he says to Katya. “Nothing that will invoke the image of a kid at a dance recital. You’re a competitor, and they should take you seriously.”

Katya shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me. Whatever you want.”

“See?” Victor says to Yuuri. “That’s the kind of skater you want. Just let me make all the decisions.” He turns around and pats her knee.

Yuuri gives him an overly patient look. “If I remember correctly, you never let your coach choose your music. In fact, you had it composed, just for you.”

Katya snorts. “Control freak.”

Victor shoots her a look. “I didn’t do that in juniors. In Juniors, I always listened to my coach.”

Katya straightens up. “So after this season, I call the shots?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

Katya pouts, finds Lishniy nearby, and pets her.

Victor’s laptop chimes with a new email. He navigates to open it.

“Oh, sorry,” Yuuri says, moving to give him a little privacy.

“No, it’s okay,” Victor replies. He’s devastated that Yuuri’s leg has left his. “It actually has to do with Axel, so you can read it.”

“Axel?” Yuuri asks curiously. He brings himself closer again and Victor rejoices.

“A speed skating coach in Tokyo I happen to know,” Victor explains. He skims the email. “He’ll be out scouting in Nagasaki. Is that very far from here?”

Yuuri angles his head in thought. “About a two hour train ride, I would say.”

Victor blinks in surprise. “How perfect. It could be a day trip.” He studies Yuuri. “Should I write him back, tell him to pencil Axel in?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri says hesitantly. “I talked about it to Yuuko. They just don’t have the money for normal coaching fees, not to mention relocating Axel, if that’s what it takes.”

Victor frowns. “So it’s a ‘no’?”

“Not a ‘no’, just tricky.” He sighs. “I guess it can’t hurt to go meet with the guy, right?”

Victor nods. “Right.” He keys in a quick response.

* * *

 

A week later, Yuuri, Victor, and Yuuko watch as Coach Itou instructs Axel about how to maneuver in speed skates. Victor feels extremely out of the loop, because Coach Itou and Axel are both speaking Japanese. Axel looks weirded out by the long blade.

Yuuri leans over to Victor with a chuckle. “She says she doesn’t think she can skate on a ruler.”

Indeed, Axel looks like a fish out of water, standing awkwardly on the ice in a pair of speed skates. She grips the boards nervously, but listens intently to Coach Itou.

On the other side of Yuuri, Yuuko sighs. “Maybe she won’t like it,” she says hopefully.

Victor is silent. He has a sneaking suspicion that won’t be the case.

Finally, Coach Itou demonstrates a few strides in his skates and Axel’s face lights up. After a quick question, she pushes off and takes a few wobbly lengths forward. After a minute or two, she’s pushing herself around the rink, slowly picking up speed. She yells something to Yuuko.

Yuuri translates. “She’s excited about how far she can go with each step.”

The session only lasts a half hour, but Axel seems to pick it up pretty quickly. When she leaves to change, Coach Itou comes over. He starts to talk in Japanese, but Yuuri cuts him off and he switches to English.

“She’s a fast learner,” he says. “And she doesn’t seem afraid of the speeds. Her legs are very strong. Does she train?”

Yuuko nods. “She works out at the gym with my husband.”

Coach Itou hums appreciatively. “It’s smart to start so young. Easier to build the muscles.” He looks at the three of them. “I actually like to train former figure skaters. They’re always the most agile speed skaters. And she’s just the right age to start, if she wants to make the Olympic team one day.”

Yuuko looks doubtful. “So you’re saying you’d take her on?”

“I’d take her in Tokyo, yes, if that’s what you decide. I know it’s a big decision for a family to make, but if you don’t want to relocate, we do have dormitory options we could talk about.”

Yuuko frowns. “I’d have to talk to my husband.”

Coach Itou nods. “Of course. I’m not planning on starting a new class until the fall anyway. My secretary can go over finance options for you.” Yuuko looks uncomfortable, but nods. “Actually,” Coach Itou goes on. “I’d like to have a word with Mr. Nikiforov and Mr. Katsuki first?”

Victor blinks and exchanges a bemused look with Yuuri. “Sure.”

Yuuko heads off to meet Axel in the front lobby of the rink and Victor and Yuuri follow Couch Itou into the stands so they can all take a seat.

“Thank you for meeting with her,” Victor starts. “We appreciate your time.”

“Of course,” Coach Itou says. “She has a lot of potential. I’d be excited to see where she is in a year.”

Victor smiles sympathetically. “It’s a difficult situation, though. Her sisters are both figure skaters, based at a local rink in Hasetsu. Their parents own it, but that’s the family’s only source of income. I just don’t know how this is going to work out.”

Coach Itou nods. “I understand. You already mentioned the financial aspect in your email. I’ve been thinking, and I have a proposition for you.”

Yuuri leans forward. “Oh?” Despite the strange situation, Victor feels a swell of affection at Yuuri’s dedication to his friend’s daughter.

“I have a friend whose son is a novice figure skater. He’s set to debut in the Junior division either this season or the next. And once he does, he’ll be looking for a new coach.”

Victor shifts in his seat, uncomfortable. “Oh, Coach Itou, I can’t speak for Yuuri, but I’m not looking for any more students at the moment. Especially one I’ve never seen skate before.”

Coach Itou holds up a hand. “Just hear me out. This friend is very dear to me, so I’d be willing to do a complete exchange of services. Your coaching for my coaching. All Axel’s parents would have to provide is living expenses and equipment.”

Victor glances at Yuuri, who looks conflicted. “It’s a generous offer, Couch Itou, but I honestly don’t even know how it would work,” Yuuri says. “I had enough trouble coordinating events with just two skaters in the Junior division this year. Next year, I’d have three if I took on this boy. Logistically…?” He gives an unsure shrug.

But the coach is looking back and forth between Victor and Yuuri. “I’m sorry, but I thought you two coached together?”

Victor looks at Yuuri again, who looks as taken aback as Victor feels. “No,” he says. “We’re just sharing a rink at the moment.” Their co-coaching arrangement is just until he and Katya go back to St. Petersburg, but it seems too complicated to explain to Coach Itou at the moment.

“I apologize,” Coach Itou says quickly. “I’m not very well-versed on the figure skating community. However,” he looks at them slyly. “You should consider pooling your resources. If logistics is the only thing keeping you from taking on more skaters, a second pair of hands could hold down the fort at your rink while you travel for competitions.” He shrugs. “Something to think about.”

Yuuri still seems flustered, so Victor answers. “Thank you for the advice, Coach Itou. But I don’t think it’s the right arrangement for us.”

“Suit yourself.” The three of them rise and shake hands. “Keep it in mind, though. The offer still stands.”

Victor smiles amicably. “Of course.”

* * *

 

“I just wish I could do more,” Yuuri says for the millionth time. They’re on the train headed back to Hasetsu. He looks across the aisle at Yuuko, asleep on the window, Axel in her lap. “She’s been my best friend since I was a kid.”

Victor pats him sympathetically on the shoulder. “You’ve already done plenty. I know you don’t charge them full coaching fees.”

Yuuri swivels to look at him. “How did you know that?”

Victor levels a look at him. “Come on, Yuuri. I know you. You’re not the kind of person who would charge his oldest friend full price.”

“It’s just,” Yuuri mumbles, looking at the floor. “She has three of them. They wouldn’t have the chance, otherwise.”

“You don’t have to defend yourself. I get it.”

Yuuri affords him a small smile before turning concerned again. “I just wish I could consider coaching that kid, but… there’s just no way.”

“Yeah…” Victor says thoughtfully. “And I doubt he’d move to St. Petersburg.”

Yuuri blinks in surprise. “Victor, we’d never ask you to do that.”

“I know. But I’m free to scout whatever skaters I want, right?” He shoots a teasing grin at Yuuri, then grows serious. “You know, not every kid has to turn their hobby into an Olympic gold medal.”

Yuuri laughs dryly. “I forget sometimes.”

They sit in silence, listening to the train clack along on the tracks.

“Yuuri?” Victor says finally.

“Yeah?”

“In the interest of communication… I just wanted to point out that Couch Itou had a point. It would be beneficial to both of us to team up as coaches, permanently.” Yuuri opens his mouth to say something, but Victor holds up a hand to stop him. “I don’t mean anything by that. It has nothing to do with us, relationship-wise. And I’m not saying we should do it. I’m just saying,” he waves his hand noncommittally. “It’s something to think about.”

Yuuri frowns, looking troubled. “I don’t know how much sense it would make. Where would we even do it? One of us would have to move.” He laughs suddenly. “Plus, between my discount coaching fees with the triplets, and the free coaching we’d be offering this kid, we wouldn’t be able to stay afloat. You’d definitely be taking a pay cut.”

Victor hums thoughtfully. “For a while, yes. But once they started winning… and believe me, they would start winning.” He raises his eyebrows at Yuuri. “With your performance expertise and my technical knowhow, we’d have them winning medals by next year.”

“Yours is already winning medals,” Yuuri points out.

“Not gold ones. Not yet.”

Yuuri looks down at the floor of the train, and Victor can practically see his walls go back up, closing Victor off. His posture has visibly changed, a little hunched, a little turned away.

He instantly backtracks. “What is it? What’d I say?”

Yuuri glances at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re unhappy with something I said. What was it?”

Blinking, Yuuri’s brow furrows and he studies Victor. “It was the bit about the gold medals, I guess,” he admits. “I just remember how focused you were on the gold, at the end.”

Victor doesn’t have to ask Yuuri to clarify. “Yuuri,” he draws the name out, focusing on what he’ll say next, how to phrase it. “I can’t lie and say that gold doesn’t matter to me. Of course it does. It always has.” Yuuri looks more downtrodden with every word, so Victor hurries to continue. “But whether Katya wins gold or comes in last place, I’ll be proud of her. I’ll always be proud of her.”

Yuuri looks straight into Victor’s eyes, in a way that takes him aback. His gaze isn’t accusatory, though. More… analyzing. “Have you told her that?”

Now it’s Victor’s turn to be surprised. “Uh, I don’t know. Probably?”

Yuuri raises his eyebrows and gives him a pointed look. “Maybe you should. Soon.” His face softens. “I can see how much your approval means to her.”

Victor nods slowly. He’s not sure the conversation has been entirely about Katya.


	15. Truth or Dare

One evening, Victor wakes from an evening nap to find the dining room has already cleared out. Blinking blearily, he looks around at the dim light. The TV is still on, playing some late night infomercial.

Victor sighs. It had been yet another night of little contact with Yuuri. He’s been trying to let Yuuri come to him, but after he pulled away on the train, it’s seemed hopeless. Their conversations have been civil enough, but that’s been about it.

Maybe Yuuri’s already made up his mind. Maybe he’s decided staying friends is the best way to go. Or worse, maybe he’ll go with his initial gut reaction and cut off contact with Victor altogether.

He wishes there was more for him to do. But earning back someone’s trust isn’t easy. He can tell Yuuri things will be different this time until he’s blue in the face, but how can he possibly prove it? Things were nice like this at the beginning of their first relationship, too.

Overcome with frustration, Victor pushes himself to standing and heads straight for the kitchen, where he knows Hiroko keeps the sake. It’s too long a walk to Minako’s bar for tonight. He’ll pay Hiroko back later.

He walks to his room and raises an eyebrow when he sees the door to the banquet room is closed. Lishniy wouldn’t have been able to get in. He pokes his head in the room just in case, but doesn’t enter when he confirms the room is empty. Yuuri’s room, on the other hand, has light trickling out of its slightly ajar door. The crack is just big enough for Lishniy to squeeze through. Shaking his head, Victor walks over in search of his dog.

He raps lightly on the open door and announces, “Hey, it’s me,” before pulling the door all the way open. Yuuri’s at his desk. His laptop bathes his face in a light blue glow. His hair is still damp from the shower and his glasses look a little steamy.

Victor feels a little steamy, all of a sudden.

“Oh, hey,” Yuuri says, leaning back in his chair. “I was worried you were going to sleep in my dining room all night.”

Victor chuckles sheepishly. “What time is it?”

“Past ten. Don’t worry, I was going to come wake you, soon.”

Victor blinks, surprised at how long he’d slept. “Wow. Sorry.”

“No problem. Mom made sure you weren’t disturbed.” Yuuri cocked his head at the bottle sake in Victor’s loose grip. “Is that from the kitchen?”

“Oh!” Of course Yuuri would speak of his mother’s kindness and call out Victor’s thievery in the same breath. “I was going to have you guys add it to my tab in the morning.”

Yuuri winks at him mischievously. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Victor laughs a little at their shared rebelliousness, even though Victor would never cheat the Katsukis out of so much as a grain of rice. He shifts his weight back and forth, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. “Well, I just came to see where Lishniy was,” he glances sideways at his dog, curled into a big ball of fluff on Yuuri’s bed. Makkachin had preferred Yuuri’s company sometimes, too. “So, goodnight. I guess she’ll stay with you tonight.”

Victor’s turning to leave when Yuuri’s voice stops him. “Wait a second.”

Victor looks over his shoulder. Yuuri’s swiveled his chair to completely face him now, and his arms are crossed over his chest.

Yuuri raises his eyebrows at him. “If we’re partners in crime, shouldn’t I get a share of the haul?”

Victor’s brows furrow in confusion until he remembers what he’s holding. He raises the bottle. “You want some?”

Yuuri grins. “Why, that’s very generous of you, Victor. Sure, come on in.”

Victor takes a few tentative steps into Yuuri’s room. “I only have one sake glass.”

“Oh, here.” Yuuri stands up and gets a sake cup off the shelf above his desk. “A souvenir from Osaka,” he explains, blowing some dust from the inside of the glass. “I’ve never actually used it.”

“Convenient,” Victor grins, slowly feeling more confident. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe Yuuri’s been as unhappy as he has about the way things have been progressing. Victor unscrews the cap off the sake and fill both their cups to the top. “ _Kampai_ ,” he says, raising his tiny cup to meet Yuuri’s.

Yuuri chuckles and clinks the clay cups together. “I forgot Minako taught you that,” he says, bringing the cup to his lips.

Victor swallows his own sweet sake, lips coming up in a smile. “Actually, you taught me that. Of course,” he adds when he sees the look of confusion on Yuuri’s face, “You had a bottle of champagne in your hand, not an ounce of sake.”

Yuuri’s face contorts at the painful memory. Or… lack of memory. “Wonderful,” he says. “How embarrassing.”

“It’s okay,” Victor assures him. “Now I have an evening with you that I was too drunk to remember.” He refills their sake cups. “At least you didn’t throw up during yours.”

“But you didn’t pole dance.”

Victor lets out a loud laugh. “I wish I would have! It would’ve been less embarrassing.”

Yuuri considers this, and finally shrugs. “I think I’d be embarrassed by both. Maybe we really are even now.”

They laugh. Victor can’t remember the last time he talked to Yuuri about something other than skating or the girls. “Truth or dare?” he challenges, because he’s feeling ambitious.

Yuuri gives him an exasperated look. “Truth or dare?” he asks. “Come on. I think even the triplets are too old for that game.”

“Come on,” Victor urges. “It’ll be fun!”

If Victor was counting on the sake taking the edge off, he had clearly forgotten the tiny quantity that is usually consumed. Yuuri raises his eyebrows placating, completely sober. “We already know most of the stuff about each other.”

“Not so,” Victor insists. “We’ve been apart for six years. Things change, like you drinking coffee. There’s a lot of ground to cover.” He shrugs. “And if it bothers you so much, just pick ‘dare’.”

Yuuri shakes his head. “I hate ‘dare.’ I never choose ‘dare.’”

“See? I didn’t know that. I’m learning things already.”

Yuuri looks at him for a second, then shrugs and pours himself another cup of sake. “Alright, you dork. Truth.”

Victor feels warm at Yuuri’s teasing. Or maybe it’s the sake, even though he hasn’t had very much. Since they had just been talking about the night of Yakov’s party, Victor asks, “Did I do or say anything else that night I got drunk?”

Yuuri’s mouth falls open a bit, then he shakes his head. “Pass.”

Victor makes a sound of indignation. “You can’t pass! Come on.” He gives Yuuri his best impression of puppy-dog eyes. “I thought we were trying to work on communication?”

“Fine, then,” Yuuri sighs. Victor feels relief. It can’t be that bad if Yuuri’s giving in so easily. “You cried.”

Oh, no. It’s so much worse than Victor imagined. “I _cried_?”

“Only a little,” Yuuri hastened to add. “You were embarrassed that I heard you throw up. And you were sad about other things, too, I think.” He taps his chin, remembering. “You stopped when I asked you up to my room.”

Victor can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, sounds like me.” He swirls the sake in his little cup. “I’m sorry again, by the way. About that night.”

“So am I,” Yuuri says. “It was partially my fault.”

Victor shrugs. “My turn,” he finally reminds Yuuri.

“Truth or truth?”

Victor almost chokes on sake. “What happened to dare?”

Yuuri frowns. “I’m not good at thinking up dares.”

“Then truth, I guess.”

“Why did you leave Yakov’s rink? It seemed like such a strange move, when I heard about it.”

Victor taps his lip, surprised that Yuuri had paid attention, surprised that Yuuri had wondered. “I’d already tried to be a coach at Yakov’s rink before. He did nothing but stick his nose in my business and make me feel inferior. If I wanted to grow as a coach, I had to leave.”

“You felt inferior when you were coaching me at Yakov’s rink?”

Victor shrugs, taking a swig of sake. “Sure. He could see everything. If you were having a bad day, or I was, he was watching. Or if I tried a different approach than he would, I could feel him judging me.” Victor looks away. “Sometimes I would wonder if you would rather have Yakov. He taught me, so maybe he would have been better off teaching you.”

“That’s stupid,” Yuuri says bluntly, and Victor’s eyes snap back to his face. “You know me. You knew what kind of skater I was. Do you seriously think I would have responded to Yakov? He’s so… abrasive.”

Victor thinks back to how Yuuri was as a skater, so desperate for reassurance and a gentle guiding hand. “No, I guess not.”

Yuuri’s looking at him tenderly. “You were enough. You were always the perfect coach for me.”

Victor gives him a grateful smile. Yuuri’s laptop has been playing music softly this whole time, and now it switches to a slow instrumental number that Victor recognizes from Yuuri’s Junior days. When he saw Yuuri’s performance, he always admired how it had complemented the man so well.

Victor sets his sake cup aside and stands up. He holds out a hand to Yuuri. “Dance with me?”

Yuuri looks taken aback for a second, but then his face relaxes into an accepting smile. He puts down his cup and takes Victor’s hand.

Victor isn’t sure what he had been expecting. Maybe for Yuuri to decline, maybe they’d sway a good distance away. But Yuuri steps in close and circles his arms around Victor’s back and rests his hands on Victor’s shoulder blades and suddenly Victor can’t breathe.

He’s probably still as a statue until Yuuri nudges him a little in time to the music, reminding Victor that he’s supposed to lead. Victor rests his hands at Yuuri’s hips and they rock back and forth.

They’re chest to chest, and Victor can feel Yuuri’s heat even in the places they’re not touching. Yuuri leans his cheek against Victor’s sternum. His hair is still damp, cold against Victor’s neck. It raises goosebumps. Victor worries that Yuuri will hear his heart speeding along in his chest, but it’s really pretty inevitable at this point.

Victor would be happy to stay like this forever, just relishing in the joy of having Yuuri here, in his arms again, but all too soon, Yuuri breaks the spell. “Your turn,” he whispers.

Victor’s not sure how Yuuri can think sanely enough to remember they’re playing, because Victor doesn’t care about the game anymore. But in the interest of hiding the fact that he’s absolutely enamored right now, Victor hastily wracks his brain for a question—any question— that he can ask Yuuri.

Helpfully, his mind supplies him with something. “Did you date anyone else while we were apart?” And Victor cringes both inside and out. Really? That was what he decided to ask? Of all the questions?

As expected, Yuuri pulls back to look him in the face, though he keeps his arms wrapped around Victor’s back. Victor curses himself in three different languages in his brain. Yuuri was _his_ , right _here_ , in his arms if only for a few moments, and Victor ruined it. He ruined it.

And it’s not like he doesn’t know the answer. He’d had Google News alerts for Yuuri’s name. He’d subscribed to every fan mailing list and scouted the forums daily. He knew Yuuri had publicly dated two people in the six years they’d spent apart.

But that didn’t count people who had never made it to the social media phase. The insecure, jealous part of Victor’s brain wants to know every name, every one night stand, every dinner and a movie. He knows it’s irrational. He still wants to know.

He looks back down at Yuuri. Far, far away Yuuri, who was looking up at up with surprise and… something else Victor can’t quite place. Victor feels stupid, but that doesn’t change the fact that he wants an answer.

He also wants Yuuri to lean his head on Victor’s chest again, to go back to swaying in silence. He can’t decide what he wants more, so he lets Yuuri decide. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Victor says.

Yuuri shakes his head slowly. “No, it’s okay. I’ll talk about it.” Victor’s heart simultaneously soars and sinks. He wants to hear so, so badly, but he can’t help but remember what it had felt like every time he saw a picture of Yuuri with another person.

“Let’s see…” Yuuri puts all his weight on one foot, contemplating. It stops their dancing altogether. “I guess, if you want to put a label on them, there were two real relationships. One about a year after we broke up, and one about two years ago.” Victor almost sighs in relief, but stops himself just in time. “Of course, I’ve gone on dates since then. But nothing serious.”

Yuuri is blinking up at him, eyes wide and open, so Victor continues. “And those two… they were serious?”

Yuuri’s starting to turn red now, a blush tinging the apples of his cheeks. “Well, that depends… The first one I dated for six months, the other for nine. But neither of them were as serious as you and I were.”

Victor tries to ignore the swell of satisfaction he feels. “Oh,” is all he says.

“And you?” Yuuri asks, blush disappearing.

“What?”

“It’s my turn for a question, right? Who have you dated these past six years?”

The pretty song ends, but Victor doesn’t drop his hands from Yuuri’s waist. Not until Yuuri does. “I went through a phase where I was physical with a lot of men,” Victor says carefully. It’s not easy to admit this to Yuuri, but… communication. “I wasn’t in the best place after we broke up. And after I got tired of that… there was only one relationship.”

Yuuri blinks. “Just one?”

“Yeah,” Victor says thoughtfully. “I guess I figured out pretty quickly that I’d missed my one shot. That I’d never be quite as happy with anyone else as I was with you.”

Yuuri frowns at him. “Until we weren’t.”

“Until I screwed it up,” Victor corrects.

“We both screwed it up,” Yuuri says. “But you’re wrong.” He slides his hands across Victor’s back, around his sides, until they’re resting lightly on his chest. Yuuri marvels at them there, like he’s touching something rare and precious. “Sometimes life gives you more than one shot.” Yuuri’s voice sounds far away.

Victor almost doesn’t want to interrupt Yuuri’s reverence, but he has to clarify what he’s hearing. “Does that mean you want to try again?”

Yuuri snaps out of his trance and looks up at Victor. He inhales slowly. “I’m still not sure yet. But these last few weeks, spending time with you… it’s been really nice.”

And Victor guesses that’s the best he can hope for right now.


	16. Things Are Looking Up

Things feel different the next day at the rink. Yuuri and Victor work the same way they usually do (the divide and conquer approach), but they seem to be paying closer attention to what the other is doing. At least, Victor does. He finds himself inching closer to Yuuri at every opportunity, especially when he’s out of earshot. He keeps one eye on whichever girl he’s working with an one eye on whatever Yuuri’s doing.

And it seems like Yuuri’s doing the same things, if the number of times they’re catching each other’s eyes is anything to go by. Victor can’t help but notice that there are more smiles being exchanged, more slight blushes on Yuuri’s end. Although maybe Victor’s blushing, too. He does feel a few degrees warmer today.

The kids seem to sense the change in atmosphere, too, albeit subconsciously. They seem friendlier to each other. Axel laughs when Katya succeeds in pulling out her scrunchie as she skates by. They all clap when Lutz lands her triple Lutz three out of five times. Loop teaches Katya a new figure, and Katya insists to Victor that she’s going to add it to her daily warm-ups.

“You think their feud is over?” Victor asks Yuuri when the girls are out of earshot. His voice carries a hint of affection as they watch them chat during a water break.

Yuuri smiles. “Did you ever think you’d see the day? I don’t think they’re faking it anymore.”

Victor shakes his head. “I heard them laughing in the locker room before practice. They didn’t know I could hear them.”

Yuuri raises his eyebrows at Victor. “Do you think it’s time to let them have their accounts back? Yuuko says the triplets have been insufferable.”

Victor tilts his head one way, and then the other. “I think it’s probably safe. But let’s put our ‘mean coach’ faces on, just in case.”

Yuuri laughs when Victor pulls a scowl. He lets Victor do the talking, too, since Victor’s doing a far better job of being serious. Victor reminds the girls that they’ll be watching the accounts very closely, and the slightest toe out of line will result in another social media blackout. The girls are too excited to listen, though.

“Huh,” Victor says as the four of them skate off the rink to retrieve their phones. “Maybe we should’ve waited until practice was over to tell them the good news.”

Yuuri laughs. “You think?”

There was no more skating that day.

* * *

 

Victor can’t help but return to Yuuri’s room that night after dinner. Last night had gone so well, and so had today. Victor wants to keep the momentum going.

He skips the sake, knowing Yuuri probably wouldn’t go for it two nights in a row. Plus, Hiroko had refused to add yesterday’s bottle to Victor’s tab, and he doesn’t want to take advantage of her hospitality.

He’s heading toward his room, thinking of an excuse to close those extra few meters between his door and Yuuri’s, when he hears music drifting down the hall. But this music isn’t like last night’s music. This music is bouncy, happy. It makes Victor think of a warm summer’s day.

Intrigued, he appears in Yuuri’s doorway. “What is this?” he asks.

Yuuri looks up from the book he’s reading on his bed. Lishniy is curled up on top of his feet. “What?” he asks.

“This music. What is this music?”

“Oh.” Yuuri glances at his computer. “It’s from this old Japanese movie my mom used to watch.” He studies Victor, who’s deep in thought. “Why?”

“It reminds me of Katya.”

Yuuri looks straight ahead, listening and concentrating. Finally, he smiles. “Yeah. It kind of sounds like her.” He looks at Victor and says what Victor’s thinking. “You should use it for her free skate.”

Victor nods slowly, then motions toward his desk. “Do you mind if I jot down some notes?”

Yuuri scurries off his bed, rustles through his desk drawers and produces a pen and a notebook. “Here.” He sits back down on the bed, cross-legged, and pets Lishniy.

His previous quest forgotten, Victor sits at Yuuri’s computer and listens to the song again and again, jotting down jump and spin ideas. Sometimes, when he thinks of something fun to put in the choreography, he draws stick figures so he’ll remember them in the morning. Oh, how he wishes he could go down to the rink right now and test out some of the new step sequences…

He loses track of time. He’s convinced he’s creating the best program he’s ever choreographed for Katya. With her bubbly personality, she’ll skate it perfectly. She’ll win gold for sure.

Yuuri sets down a mug of tea next to him at some point. Victor utters a quick thanks, but doesn’t touch it until Yuuri reminds him of it a few minutes later. He’s in the zone. It’s been so long since he’s been in the zone about skating. He’d forgotten how invigorating it can be.

When he’s happy with the notes he’s taken, he swivels in his chair to face Yuuri. “What’s Lutz’s music?” he demands. “Have you choreographed anything for it yet?”

Yuuri leans off his bed, bracing himself on the desk, and navigates the music program on the laptop until the familiar Disney song tinkles through the speakers. Victor listens to it through once, listening when Yuuri suggests a spin here or a step sequence there. Then he bends over his notepad and starts scribbling again.

Yuuri hovers over his shoulder this time, reading the notes and offering input every so often. Finally, Victor holds the paper up for them both to see and they play the music, imagining the routine together. When the song ends, Yuuri nods. “I like it.”

Victor’s still feeling energized, so he just asks, “And Loop’s?”

Yuuri glances at his watch, but plays the music anyway. They follow the same strategy and by the time they’ve finished choreographing the last program, it’s past midnight.

“Whew!” Victor says, blowing his bangs out of his eye. “That was crazy. I can’t remember the last time I had so much inspiration!”

Yuuri settles down on his bed, sitting next to Lishniy once again. He smiles. “You had that spark in your eye. It reminded me…” He trails off, running his fingers through Lishniy’s fur.

Victor sits back in the office chair, leaning it back a little. He rubs at his eyes. “Hmm?” he mumbles distractedly. These intense choreography sessions always left him feeling drained. When Yuuri doesn’t elaborate, Victor peers at him through exhausted eyes, even though he doesn’t exactly remember what Yuuri had been saying.

“Never mind.” Yuuri shakes his head. “Are you tired? It’s pretty late, for you.”

It was true. Yuuri had always functioned better than he did during these late hours. “I’m fine,” he defends. He stretches to distract from the yawn he’s trying to stifle.

Yuuri doesn’t look like he believes him. He pats the bed beside him. “Come here.”

Victor stares at him, unsure whether his fatigued brain is hearing Yuuri correctly. When Yuuri starts looking at him like he’s crazy, Victor jumps out of the chair and hurries to Yuuri’s bed. Yuuri gently pushes Victor down so he’s laying on his stomach. One of Victor’s feet rests on Lishniy, just because she’s in the way.

Victor twists his neck to peer imploringly up at Yuuri. “What…?”

Yuuri shushes him and starts kneading at his shoulders, thumbs digging into the muscles. In spite of himself, Victor lets out a sigh and drops his head onto Yuuri’s pillow, closing his eyes.

He had forgotten how amazing Yuuri’s massages were. Victor used to work on Yuuri’s knots after training sometimes, but whenever Yuuri offered to return the favor, Victor always let him. As a fellow athlete, Yuuri had the strength to really push on the tight spots, and the experience to know which muscles would be sore after practicing a certain jump over and over.

Victor’s shoulder tension, when he gets it, is different than the skating strains he got years ago, but Yuuri can still seem to pinpoint the problem areas with ease. He rubs circles into Victor’s shoulders and neck, and Victor can practically feel the muscles surrender under his touch. “Mmm…” he hums, melting onto the bed. “You’re even better than before.”

Yuuri chuckles, his breath blowing Victor’s hair. He’s close. Between that and the heat radiating from Yuuri’s palms, Victor distantly thinks he should probably be turned on right now, but he can’t seem to bring himself to care. His mind is beginning to float far, far away.

“That’s a good thing, because your back has gotten worse,” Yuuri’s saying, but Victor barely hears him. His breathing slows and he drifts off to sleep.

* * *

 

Victor wakes a few hours later in a bed that is decidedly not his own. His bed, at least, isn’t as warm as this. His bed also doesn’t smell like Yuuri’s shampoo. He blinks blearily and his eyes slowly become accustomed to the dim light.

Yuuri’s laptop, plugged in on the desk, hasn’t gone to sleep and illuminates the room in a dim glow. Victor’s lying on his side and Yuuri’s curled up next to him, close but not touching. Victor’s momentarily too filled with ecstasy to recall how he got there, but eventually remembers the heavenly massage. Yuuri must have decided not to kick Victor out of his bed. Or he couldn’t wake him up.

Victor doesn’t really know what to think. He probably isn’t a hundred percent welcome in this bed. He should probably ease himself backwards, leave Yuuri alone, and return to his room. It’s probably what Yuuri would want.

Only… only Yuuri looks so peaceful here, next to Victor. They’re even face to face, so Yuuri couldn’t have been all that opposed to sharing a bed, right? If he had been, he could have helped himself to Victor’s empty one, down the hall.

Frozen with indecision, Victor just watches Yuuri for a moment, admires the way his eyelashes sit delicately on his cheek, listens to the even cadence of his breathing. Victor’s fingers twitch. His arms itch to gather Yuuri up and hold him close.

And maybe he can. Victor’s always been touchy when he sleeps, and they both know it. If he reaches out and Yuuri wakes up, Victor could feign innocence easily enough.

He refrains as long as he can, which only ends up being about a half a minute, before he sneaks closer, millimeter by millimeter, and snakes his arm around Yuuri’s waist.

For a second, Victor thinks he’s done it. He’s home free. But Yuuri proves to be a lighter sleeper than he remembers, because he stirs and pulls back a little to blink blearily up at Victor. Victor freezes, forgetting to pull the offending arm away. He waits to see what will happen next.

“Victor?” Yuuri mumbles, the word heavy from sleep. He’s looking at him curiously, but he doesn’t seem angry yet.

“Sorry,” Victor breathes, his voice no louder than a whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Victor watches as Yuuri works through what’s happening in his sleep-addled brain. His brown eyes dart back and forth, too close to see both of Victor’s eyes at once. Finally, they close again, and Victor thinks Yuuri may have fallen back to sleep until Yuuri pushes forward and catches Victor’s lips with his own.

Victor gasps through his nose, eyes wide with surprise. The kiss is so brief, he doesn’t even have time to close them before Yuuri pulls back again. Yuuri’s lips smile in the slightest way when he sees Victor’s face.

As short and chaste as the kiss was, Victor’s already short of air. “What was that for?” he whispers between breaths.

Yuuri shifts under his arm. “I was wondering if it would feel the same way I remembered.”

Everything he’s saying, everything he’s doing is driving Victor crazy with optimism and hope, but he keeps those feelings under control, plays it cool. “And?”

Yuuri shrugs, his face unimpressed. “Eh,” he says in a way that lets Victor know he’s trying to get a rise out of him.

Victor bites back a smile and pretends to be offended. “You caught me off guard. I wasn’t even trying.”

Yuuri’s face smooths into sincerity as he drops his act. “Oh?” he breathes.

It’s all the invitation Victor needs. He brings the hand that’s been resting on Yuuri’s waist to tangle in his hair and pull Yuuri closer. Victor initiates the kiss this time, his lips curling around Yuuri’s softly. Yuuri lets out a little hum and wraps his arm around Victor’s shoulder, pressing their chests together.

And man, is it everything Victor remembered and more. There’s something comforting in kissing an old lover, the familiarity of falling back into your old rhythm. But there’s something new there, too. Maybe it’s been the months of anticipation leading up to this moment. Maybe it’s that they’re a few years older, each with a few more lovers’ worth of practice under their belt. Or maybe it’s the knowledge that this man, here in Victor’s arms, has been the only one Victor’s wanted to be with all along.

The kiss deepens into something hungrier, and soon Yuuri’s nipping at Victor’s bottom lip, seeking entry. Victor parts his lips, because if Yuuri wants in, he’ll let him in. If Yuuri wants the sun and the moon and the stars, Victor will give them to him. Tonight, though, Yuuri seems content to give, and when his tongue enters Victor’s mouth, Victor makes a needy noise in the back of his throat.

All too soon, air becomes an issue, and the two break apart. Yuuri’s as out of breath as Victor, now. Victor keeps his hand on the back of Yuuri’s neck and rests their foreheads together as they recover together from the rush. Yuuri’s eyes are locked on Victor’s again, and Victor can’t help but ask, “Well?”

Panting, Yuuri closes his eyes momentarily and nods. When he opens them to look back at Victor, he’s smiling, and Victor can’t help but mirror the satisfaction on his face. He slides his hand from Yuuri’s neck to his face, lightly brushing the skin with his fingertips, until he’s cupping Yuuri’s cheek in his palm. His thumb runs back and forth across the skin there, and Victor marvels at the heat radiating from Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri brings his own hand up and over Victor’s, holding him there. His eyes turn sad. “We should probably stop.”

Victor’s eyes clench shut for a second, as if he could possibly hide the pain he’s feeling from Yuuri right now. Of course. Of course this perfect moment is too good to be true. “Okay,” he manages, opening his eyes and giving Yuuri a weak smile to show he’s all right.

Naturally, Yuuri can read him in a second. “It’s not that,” he says immediately, leaning forward to land a peck on the edge of Victor’s lips. “I mean, yeah, I don’t want to move too fast here. But we’ve got to be up for the girls in a few hours.”

“Oh,” Victor says, relief warming him. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

Yuuri pulls away, giving them both a few more inches to breathe, but lopes his hand around Victor’s waist. “Good night,” he says.

“Night,” Victor whispers back. But neither of them close their eyes until it’s absolutely impossible to keep them open any longer.


	17. Injury

Victor wakes up the next day happier than he’s felt in weeks. He practically dances through the kitchen, cracking eggs for Hiroko before she shoos him out. He leaves early and takes Lishniy on a long jog by the beach before it’s time to leave for practice. When he gets back to the inn, the loud protests of Jiro threatening to wake even the most exhausted of guests, Victor pushes Lishniy out of the room, then picks Jiro up and tickles him until he cries.

“You’re acting weird,” Katya says as she works her blonde hair into a long braid.

Victor grins at her. “I worked out your free skate.”

Katya’s face lights up. “Are you serious? Is it amazing? You seem pretty excited. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

Victor unwraps a protein bar and feigns nonchalance. “I guess. You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Victor!” Katya protests. “Come on! At least tell me what the music is?” She widens her eyes and puts on a pleading pout.

Victor almost laughs, surprised at how young she looks. He forgets sometimes that she’s barely a teenager. “Nope. You’ll see soon enough.”

Lishniy bounds back into the room, Yuuri on her heels. He hurries to scoop Jiro up in his arms. The toddler yells something in Japanese and a few of the other guest balk.

“No, Jiro, that’s not nice!” Yuuri hikes him higher on his hip and glares. “Geez, your mother needs to start watching her language…”

“Morning, Yuuri!” Victor tries not to sound too eager, but some of his cheerfulness leaks out anyway.

Yuuri straightens and gives Victor a smile that would seem normal to anyone else in the dining room, but is loaded with subtext for Victor. All of it good subtext, of course. At least, that’s how Victor’s choosing to interpret it. “Good morning, Victor.”

“Yuuri!” Katya interrupts. “Do you know the music to my new free skate? What is it?”

“Don’t tell her.” Victor smirks when Katya glowers at him.

Yuuri shrugs, handing Jiro off to Mari. “Guess we’ll just have to hurry over to the rink. You done?”

Katya shovels a few more forkfuls of egg into her mouth, then grabs her backpack. “Yeah. Let’s go!”

She jogs ahead of the two of them, partially because it’s part of her morning warm-up, but mostly in anticipation. Victor and Yuuri walk together amicably, falling far behind. Victor yearns to take Yuuri’s hand. Now that the door to physical contact has been opened, he wants to take full advantage.

At the same time, Victor doesn’t want to get his hopes up too high. He and Yuuri haven’t talked about what happened last night, what it means for their relationship. He doesn’t know if Yuuri would be comfortable with holding hands in public. It would probably be best to keep the whole thing under wraps until they have a chance to work it out.

Besides, they have other things to worry about. Katya practically sprints into the locker room when they arrive at the rink. It’s clear she tells the triplets the big news, because all four of them make it onto the ice in record time.

“Do you work on our programs, too, Victor?” Loop asks excitedly. “Can we start practicing them for next season?”

“Yuuri and I both choreographed them,” Victor laughs. “Yours and Lutz’s.” He sneaks a sideways glance at Axel. She looks thoroughly disappointed, but she’d told them all she wanted to choose speed skating over figure skating, so he and Yuuri had been giving her drills to hone her agility. It was kind of useless, though, since she didn’t have a real coach or speed skates to practice with. Her future was a bit of a question mark right now.

Lutz and Loop are peppering Yuuri with questions, begging to see their programs. Finally Yuuri raises his hands to quiet them. “Enough!” he says, but Victor can tell he’s amused. “Go warm up, and then we’ll show you.”

The four speed off to the ice. Even Axel is excited to see what the coaches had come up with.

Victor digs the pad of paper out of his bag and sets it on the boards. He and Yuuri both review the programs together before putting on their own skates and following the kids in a few warm-up laps. Victor takes Katya and Yuuri takes the triplets, and they begin teaching their students the choreography.

A few hours later, after switching kids a few times, Victor and Yuuri invite Yuuko and Nishigori rinkside to watch the first unofficial performance of the girls’ free skates.

Katya goes first. She’s always been a pro at picking up choreography, so she only needs a few reminders from Victor about what comes next. She doesn’t add any jumps yet, but Victor calls out what elements will be added in later.

Already, it’s clear that Katya loves the program. As Victor suspected, it fits her personality perfectly. She seems lighter on her skates than ever before. He can even tell a difference in her step sequences since she’s been practicing her figures, although the whole program still has a long way to go before it’s competitive.

When she finishes, everyone claps loudly. She takes a bow before skating directly into Victor, a huge smile on her face.

“I love it!” she gushes, squeezing him tight around the waist. “It’s perfect!”

Victor breathes a little chuckle into her hair and returns the hug before tugging gently on the end of her braid. “Let’s work hard so it’ll win you a gold medal, okay?”

She nods enthusiastically and releases him.

Loop is up next. She skates to that Moana song and Victor has to admit, for a Disney song, Loop adds a level of class. She perfectly captures the eager spirit of the song, as desperate to prove herself as the song’s protagonist. Her parents applaud proudly when she finishes, and Victor leans over to announce, “She’ll get high performance scores with that one.” The way she naturally connects with the music reminds Victor of Yuuri, a little bit.

Lutz is last. She timidly takes the ice, still unsure of the choreography. “Don’t worry,” Yuuri calls. “We’ll remind you of what’s coming next. You just learned it today. It’s okay to make mistakes.”

Lutz nods and takes her starting position. Victor clicks the remote and the first few notes of Frozen 2’s love ballad ring out. Lutz follows the program with care and finesse. Technically, she performs better than Loop or Katya. Victor can’t wait to see what happens when she gets comfortable with the routine.

When she skids into her final pose, everyone in the rink cheers loudly. Lutz has clearly come a long way from the first time Victor saw her skate in Moscow.

She’s beaming on the ice, and Victor announces, “That’ll be one hell of a Junior debut!”

Lutz’s face lights up even brighter than it had been a second ago. “You mean it?” she asks. “You think I’m ready for Juniors?”

She looks back and forth between Victor and Yuuri. Victor looks over at Yuuri, too, a smile on his face. Yuuri nods. “You’re ready.”

Lutz gives a loud whoop and her sisters rush in for a group hug, Katya right on their heels. The girls all jump on the ice, which causes Yuuko to yell at them to be careful. She’s smiling almost as wide as they are, though.

“Thanks, guys,” she says. “This is huge for Lutz. She was so discouraged last season.”

“It wasn’t us,” Yuuri says. “She worked hard. You should be proud.”

“We’ll go out for pizza tonight, to celebrate,” Nishigori announces, and his deep voice echoes throughout the rink. “All of us.”

The girls seem pretty excited about that, and Victor claps his hands to regain order. “We’ll have to work extra hard for the next few hours to account for the calories, then!” he says. He laughs when the kids groan. “Come on, don’t give me that. Next season is coming fast!”

Katya rolls her eyes at him, but peels away from the group to run through her program again. The triplets do the same, one by one. Axel starts skating laps around the rink.

Victor and Yuuri smile at each other and head off to work.

“Let’s get the fist element down,” Victor says as he skates up to Katya. “A spread eagle into the double Axel. It’s a difficult entry, but it’ll get you more points.”

Katya nods. She has trouble with it for a while, but Victor gives her pointers and drills it until she finally manages it once.

“Who wants pizza?” Nishigori calls from across the rink.

Katya glances over to him, panting, then looks at Victor for permission.

“Just one more try,” Victor urges. “You just got it.”

Katya puts on an overly tired act that Victor sees through immediately. “But Victor…”

“No ‘but Victor’s,” he says. “Don’t you want to see if you can land it again? Just one more time.”

She sighs but lines up to do it again anyway. She goes into the spread eagle just fine, but the minute she launches into the double Axel, Victor can tell it’s all wrong. He can practically see flashes of Yuuri’s falls, forever burned into his brain, as Katya comes down and tries to catch herself with her hand. There’s too much momentum, though, too much speed. And her hand is caught low under her hip, not safely in line with her shoulder or her chest. She cries out as the weight of her torso pins her arm against the ice.

Air is caught frozen in Victor’s lungs for a half a second. Then he sees Katya struggling to roll over, pushing herself off her hand with her shoulder and her thigh, and he rushes over to help.

He supports her into a sitting position, holding her elbow to keep her hand cradled against her stomach. “Are you okay?” he asks gently. “How badly does it hurt?”

Katya’s gasping for air, tears already gathering in her eyes. “It hurts,” she squeaks, and the pain in her voice almost breaks Victor’s heart.

The triplets and Yuuri skate up, although Yuuri stops the triplets from crowding them. He kneels next to Victor. “Is it broken?” he asks.

“I don’t want to touch it,” Victor says. “Can you move it, Katya? Even a little?”

Tears are running down her cheeks. She shakes her head. _Shit_.

Victor closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them. “I’m going to help you up, okay? You have to stand up so we can get you to a doctor. You be strong for me, yes, Katen’ka?”

Katya blinks the tears from her eyes and nods.

Victor stands behind her and moves to support both her elbows, but Yuuri is already taking her uninjured one. “Stiff arms,” he commands. Victor takes the other elbow and the two of them lift Katya to her feet. The triplets, uncharacteristically quiet, skate in front of them as they glide Katya off the ice.

Victor sets to work untying her skates and putting on her sneakers. Nearby, Yuuri’s talking with Nishigori and Yuuko, probably about who can take them to the hospital.

Victor keeps his head down and his eyes on his work. No one notices his hands are shaking.

* * *

 

The hospital whisks Katya back right away. Victor, Yuuri, and Yuuko sit in the waiting room. Yuuri helps Victor fill out the paperwork, all in Japanese.

Name: Katya Andreevna

Date of Birth: 23-8-06

He doesn’t look at Yuuri or Yuuko. He focuses on taking deep breaths and keeping his pen steady.

Parents’ names. Emergency contact. Reason for Visit.

“Poor thing,” Yuuko sighs. “She looked pretty scared. Is this her first skating injury?”

Victor’s throat seizes up. He clears it before speaking so his voice will sound normal. “Yes.”

Allergies. Medical history. Victor opens up a document on his phone to make sure he’s giving Yuuri the correct information.

Yuuri stops writing to pat him on the shoulder. Victor doesn’t make eye contact.

“It’s probably not broken,” Yuuko says, her voice tender. “I’ve seen kids break bones out there, and they scream their heads off.”

“That’s right,” Yuuri says. “It’s probably just a sprain.”

Victor stands, takes the paperwork from Yuuri, and hands it to the receptionist. “I’ll have them take x-rays, just in case.”

He doesn’t sit back down next to them. He leans against a wall instead. He folds his arms and looks down at the ground.

She had wanted to stop. She had wanted to go and get pizza. Victor hadn’t let her. He’d made her do it just one more time.

The competitions were still months away. Couldn’t they have practiced more tomorrow, when she wasn’t so tired? There was no pressure to get her to land that double Axel today. She would have had it down by the time the Grand Prix series came around, one way or the other.

The pain on her face… she was still so young. Still just a child, really. A child that had been hurt on his watch.

Victor still feels shaky. He feels like he can run ten miles or scream at the ocean or maybe just curl up and die. He doesn’t know what would be best, what would make him feel better right now.

He works to keep it off his face. Coaches deal with injuries in their athletes all the time. It’s part of the job. He can handle it.

Except it doesn’t feel like he can, and the waiting room is too crowded and too noisy and too small. He can feel Yuuko and Yuuri watching him carefully, looking for any crack in his demeanor. He’s Victor Nikiforov. There can be no cracks.

He clears his throat again and pushes off the wall. “I, uh… I’m going to get some air,” he says to no one in particular. “Come get me if the doctor comes out.”

Victor walks out of the hospital’s automatic doors, dodging a family that’s coming in. He walks briskly around the side of the building to a quiet courtyard. It seems mildly secluded from the parking lot and the hospital entrances.

He takes advantage of the privacy and paces back and forth, raking both hands through his hair. He feels about ready to fall apart until he hears a quiet, “Victor?”

He spins around, letting his hands fall to his sides. Yuuri’s followed him. Of course Yuuri’s followed him. He looks at Victor with concern in his eyes, and no small amount of uncertainty.

“I’m fine,” Victor says automatically.

Yuuri’s face falls. “Oh. Okay, then.” He turns to leave.

Victor longs to call out to him. He wants to bury his face in Yuuri’s shoulder and let Yuuri make everything better. He wants to let Yuuri handle things until he’s ready to stand on his own two feet again.

 _So why don’t you?_ A small voice in his brain wonders. Victor tries to come up with an answer to it, but he can’t. He can’t think of a single good reason to keep up this facade in front of Yuuri. Not this time.

Communication. Right?

“Yuuri, wait,” Victor says, a lot more quietly than he means to. Yuuri stops and looks over his shoulder. Victor closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He says those words he’s been afraid to say for all these years. “I need help.”

Relief. That’s what’s on Yuuri’s face, almost immediately. His relief is apparent from several meters away, and when Yuuri speaks, it rings clear in his voice. “Okay. Come here.” He steps forward, takes Victor’s hand, and leads him like a child to a nearby bench.

When they sit and Yuuri pulls Victor close, pulls him close to his chest like Victor wanted, then Victor feels relief, too. He hugs Yuuri around his waist like a teddy bear. He doesn’t cry, not yet, but he takes a shaky breath.

Yuuri plays with his hair. “She’s going to be fine,” he whispers.

“You weren’t,” Victor can’t help but say.

“I was,” Yuuri says, his voice sounding far away. “I was eventually.”

“It was just like you,” Victor whispers. “She was my student and she got hurt, just like you.”

“I know,” Yuuri says. “That’s part of being a coach.”

“She wanted to stop,” Victor admits. “She wanted to quit for the day, and I pushed her.”

“Well,” says Yuuri, with a little laugh that shakes Victor’s head. “That’s also part of being a coach.”

Victor laughs a little, too. “Being a coach sucks.”

They chuckle together. When they’re quiet, Yuuri resumes stroking Victor’s hair. “It wasn’t your fault, you know.” Victor’s not sure if Yuuri’s talking about himself or about Katya. He’s afraid to ask. “These things happen.”

Victor closes his eyes, lets the thoughts overtake him for a minute. He sees Katya fall, sees Yuuri fall. Smells the antiseptic of the hospital, even though they’re outside. He remembers the months he spent pouring over Yuuri’s training videos until they haunted him in his sleep, while the real Yuuri pulled further and further away.

And now he’s here. Yuuri’s right here on this bench, and he has Victor in his arms. And even though Victor made a terrible, terrible mistake with Katya today, Yuuri’s still here. Victor can almost feel part of the burden transfer to Yuuri, letting him feel lighter, giving him the strength to handle this.

Victor doesn’t realize he’s crying until Yuuri’s wiping the tears off his cheeks with a tissue from his pocket. Yuuri makes soothing noises and holds him, and Victor knows he can go back into the waiting room. Whatever the doctor has to say, Victor can take it, because Yuuri’s here.

Eventually, Victor sits back up. He wipes his face with a tissue that Yuuri hands him. “Thanks.”

Yuuri gives him a small smile. “Anytime.”

“I think I’m ready to go back in now.”

So they go back to the room to wait. The doctor lets him back into the exam room after a while, to brief him on Katya’s condition. Victor stands, then offers his hand to Yuuri.

“Will you come with me?” he asks.

Yuuri smiles and accepts the help getting up from his chair. “Of course.”

Apparently, there’s some merit to this whole ‘asking for what you want’ thing.

Katya’s on the exam table in the room, feet dangling a foot off the floor. Her arm is in a sling, ice pack over a bandage. Her face crumples when she sees Victor.

“He says I can’t skate for at least a month!” she says, scooting to the end of the table so she can jump off.

“Hey, stop.” Victor rushes forward to grab her shoulder and keep her on the table. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry!” Her eyes are rimmed with red and still look a little shiny as she gazes up at him. “I ruined everything!”

“Katya, no,” Victor says firmly. “You did not. You’re going to be okay. That’s all I care about.”

He puts his arm around Katya’s shoulders as they listen to the doctor. He speaks English pretty well, but Yuuri still clarifies a few things in Japanese.

As expected, it’s only a sprain. The x-rays proved it. She’ll be off the ice for a month, maybe longer if she’s still in pain. But she’s young. She’ll bounce back.

Victor helps her off the table and when they get back to the waiting room, Yuuko greets Katya with a big hug. She kneels down in front of her. “You were pretty brave today,” she says. “I think you deserve pizza even more than Lutz. What do you say? There’s still time.”

For the first time in the last few hours, Katya’s face breaks into a smile. She looks at Victor for permission.

“You sure?” Victor asks casually. “You don’t want to go home, get to bed early? Get a jump start on icing your wrist, or do a little homework?”

Everyone laughs at the sour look Katya gives him, and Victor gives her permission to break her diet, just for tonight.

When Yuuko starts to lead them to the car, Yuuri grabs Victor’s arm to stop him from following. “You guys go on without us,” he says. “We’re going to walk home. We have some things to discuss.” Victor looks at Yuuri curiously.

“Okay,” Yuuko says easily, smiling at the pair.

“Don’t have her out too late!” Victor calls to the retreating girls.

“No later than 1 AM!” Yuuko calls back.

Victor turns back to Yuuri. Yuuri smiles. “Ready for a walk?” he asks.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” Victor retorts. “You just sent our ride away.”

Yuuri laughs and leads him out the door.


	18. Meeting Again

Victor’s feeling tired from all that’s happened today. He feels emotionally drained again, like he had last night, after he worked out three free skates in a row. But good things happened right after that, so maybe good things will happen here, too.

As he walks next to Yuuri down the little sidewalk that surrounds Hasetsu, the fresh air puts him in a good mood. The sound of the seagulls and the waves have always lulled him into peace here, and they’re close enough to the water that Victor can taste the salt in the air. It’s hard to imagine anything bad happening right now.

Then again, Yuuri practically said, ‘We need to talk,’ which is never a good thing. Everybody knows that.

They walk in silence until they’re so close to Yu-topia that Victor shoots Yuuri a confused look. “I thought you wanted to talk?” he finally says.

“I thought we’d take Lishniy to the beach,” Yuuri says, smiling at him.

“Oh. Okay.”

So they go and wrestle a leash onto Lishniy. Hiroko won’t let the two of them leave without dinner, so after Yuuri negotiates, they finally escape with onigiri in hand. They eat on the way to the beach, before the rice gets too cold.

After Victor lets Lishniy of the leash, he settles on the sand. Instead of sitting down next to him, Yuuri sits in front of him, back to the ocean like Victor did all those weeks ago. They look at each other for a moment.

Finally, Yuuri speaks. “I think we should talk about our breakup.”

“Oh.” It’s a subject they’d been skirting since they first started talking again. Every time they get close to talking about it, they change the subject.

“I think it’s important to talk about where things went wrong,” Yuuri goes on.

“Okay,” Victor says. “We can do that.” Communication. Yeah. That’s what it’s going to take to get Yuuri back, no matter how uncomfortable it’ll be. And so far, it doesn’t sound like it’s gearing up to be a fun conversation.

They’re quiet, both looking at the sand, both thinking of where to start.

“First off,” Yuuri says at last, “I want to say I’m sorry. I don’t think I ever said that to you when we broke up.”

Victor looks up at him in surprise. “ _You’re_ sorry? For what?”

“You were unhappy. For a really, really long time.” Yuuri picks at a piece of fuzz on his jeans, his face weighed down with guilt. “I saw it, and I was waiting for you to come to me to talk about it. But I should have come to you.”

Victor opens his mouth, closes it again. “But…”

“No,” Yuuri interrupts. He looks up at Victor, right into his eyes. “It was my responsibility, as a fiancé. I saw something wrong, and I did nothing.”

“Okay…” Victor says slowly. “I mean, I’m not sure it would have changed anything…”

“It might’ve. I should have tried, at least. To talk to you about how you were feeling.” Yuuri looks away, clearly frustrated with himself. “So I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

Victor wants to argue about it some more, but instead he looks closely at Yuuri’s face. Yuuri believes he’d done wrong. Whether Victor quite believes it or not doesn’t matter. “I don’t think I would have talked to you about it anyway, but thank you for the apology.”

Yuuri looks up at Victor’s face, too many emotions swirling in his eyes. “Why wouldn’t you have talked to me?” he whispers.

And there’s the problem. It was always the problem, and Victor knows it. “Because it was my fault,” he says, hearing pain in his voice. “It was my fault you got hurt. How could I help you when I was the reason you were hurting?”

Yuuri’s shaking his head. “Not that,” he says, and Victor furrows his brows in confusion. “I mean before that. You were sad before that.”

Victor thinks back. Had he been? He’d always assumed Yuuri’s injury started it all, but had there been problems before, problems that Victor hadn’t even seen? “You mean my bronze at Nationals,” he says as it dawns on him. “And my silver at Europeans.”

“Partially, yes,” Yuuri says.

But Victor’s too busy remembering to hear him properly. “I _was_ upset about that, that’s right,” he thinks out loud. “I was letting myself down.” He looks at Yuuri. “And then you weren’t performing well either, and I thought I was letting you down.”

“That’s right,” Yuuri urges. “So why didn’t you tell me that?”

Victor closes his eyes for a second and puts himself back in his own shoes, before he had any guilt over Yuuri’s knee. “I was too proud,” he says, opening his eyes. “I was successful as a skater, and I was successful as a coach. But when I wasn’t successful as a skater _and_ a coach… I don’t know. It was embarrassing.”

“Too embarrassing to tell me?” Yuuri says gently. “I was your fiancé.”

Victor looks at him. “You had idolized me your whole life. I wasn’t living up to your expectations anymore.” Victor’s voice cracks, but his eyes feel dry.

“Oh, Victor.” Yuuri reaches out to touch his knee. “You weren’t my idol anymore. You were so much more than that. You were my partner. You were human. I would have understood.” Yuuri looks down. “And if you thought I still had you up on a pedestal, then that’s my fault for making you feel that way.”

“It’s my fault, too,” Victor argues. “For trying to stay on the pedestal for you. That was no way to approach a relationship.” Victor sees that now. How frustrating must it have been for Yuuri, to have a boyfriend who was perfect all the time, or at least trying to be? How could Yuuri be vulnerable, when Victor never let himself be? “Your knee…” Victor says slowly, realizing something. “You never seemed upset about it and that always confused me.”

Yuuri voices aloud the things Victor is thinking. “I was watching you fall apart when neither of us were winning gold. And then I got hurt and you clearly blamed yourself. I didn’t want to add to your stress.”

“But were you? Upset?”

“Of course,” Yuuri shrugs. “I’d lost skating. It was the one thing in my life that always brought me comfort. It let me express myself, and it had been taken away from me.” Victor’s heart sinks with every word. Yuuri must see it, but he goes on. “Not to mention I could no longer take care for myself, and I was stuck on the couch all the time. That wasn’t fun.”

“You were going through so much,” Victor realizes. “And because I was trying too hard to be strong for you, you were trying to be strong for me.”

“Kind of stupid, isn’t it?” Yuuri smiles at him. “That it took us six years to figure it out?”

“What else?” Victor demands. “Was there more? You say it all happened before you got hurt.”

The smile disappears from Yuuri’s face. “Yes…” he says hesitantly. “The knee sped things up, I think, but there were more problems before.”

“Then what?”

Yuuri seems to struggle with the words, so Victor waits. “I guess…” Yuuri finally says. “I thought when you started skating yourself, you forgot how to coach me.”

Victor tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“You were a skater who thrived under pressure. When you wanted a gold medal, you went out and took it.” Yuuri glances behind him at Lishniy, sitting not too far away. “But I wasn’t that way. So when you started skating again, you tried to motivate me the same way you would motivate yourself. And it just freaked me out.”

“Oh,” Victor says, at a loss. “I… I had no idea I was doing that.”

Yuuri lets out a humorless chuckle. “I guess I probably should have told you.”

Victor sighs. “I can see why you didn’t, though,” he says. “I wasn’t exactly listening, at the time.” He looks at Yuuri. “I’m sorry, too. For everything. For shutting you out when I needed you most.”

“It’s okay,” Yuuri says. They way he’s looking at Victor right now has a tender quality that warms Victor’s chest, even though the sun is setting and the air around them is growing colder. “You didn’t shut me out today.” Yuuri smiles.

Victor scoffs. “I almost did.”

“But you didn’t.”

He looks hard at Yuuri, who’s face is filled with affection. It’s a good sign, he realizes. The best sign, maybe.

“There’s one more thing,” Yuuri says. “One more thing I have to know.”

“Anything,” Victor promises.

He looks at Victor carefully. “Do you still blame me? For making you come back to skating, and ruining your winning streak?”

It’s seems like such a ridiculous question now, six years later. It’s ancient history. But Victor remembers the last time Yuuri asked him that, and how monumental it seemed at the time, so he thinks hard and tries to answer honestly. “No,” he says. “You played a role in the decision. But ultimately, I was the one who decided to come out of retirement, so any consequences are on my shoulders.”

Yuuri nods. “Good. Then I think you already know the answer to the question you were about to ask.”

Victor thinks through their last conversation as a couple. The last time they asked each other about blame. And Victor’s question had been about Yuuri’s knee, whether Yuuri blamed Victor for his injury.

“Hey, wait a second,” Victor says, realizing Yuuri has tricked him.

Yuuri giggles a little. “It’s true. My answer is the same as yours. You encouraged me to keep the quad flip, but ultimately, there on the ice, I was the one who decided to do it, even though I knew it was a bad idea. The jump was my decision, so the fall was my fault.”

“I told you to do it!” Victor protests.

“And I told you to come out of retirement,” Yuuri shoots back.

Victor stares at him in disbelief, running through a half dozen possible comebacks and coming up blank. “There’s no way for me to argue this one, is there?”

Yuuri smiles proudly. “Nope.”

“Damn it.” Victor pounds the sand and smiles up at the sky in defeat. “You’re as stubborn as… as…”

“You?” Yuuri suggests.

Victor looks at Yuuri, takes in that pleased look that’s filled with faux innocence, and can’t help but lunge forward and kiss him. Yuuri’s lips stretch into a smile under his own. Victor sets one hand on Yuuri’s knee, the other tangles in his hair.

Yuuri places both hands on Victor’s chest and pushes him away. “You’re getting sand in my hair,” he says affectionately, mussing the back of his head where Victor’s sandy hand just was.

Victor rocks back on his heels with a groan. “You ruined the moment!” he complains.

Yuuri stands suddenly, clicking his tongue at Lishiy to call her over. “Let’s go home,” he says as he fastens her leash back on.

Victor sits loose on the sand, confused. “What, now?” When they were finally getting to a happy place in their conversation? When the sun had disappeared behind the horizon and the stars were shining in the most romantic way? When Lishniy had finally stopped barking at the water and the only sound was the clapping of the waves?

“Yes, now,” Yuuri laughs, grabbing Victor’s unwilling hand and hauling him up. “Come on!”

And, as disappointed as Victor is, he realizes he can’t say no to Yuuri when he’s acting so adorable.

* * *

 

Maybe Yuuri will stop under the awning at the entrance to the inn and kiss him. Maybe he’ll burst inside and announce to their whole family that they’re back together again. Maybe Katya will be as grossed out at their displays of affection as Yurio used to be.

Victor hopes all these things will happen, and he’s utterly disappointed when Yuuri just drags him by the hand unceremoniously through the front door of the inn. He pauses long enough for Victor to unhook Lishniy’s leash, and then he’s back to pulling.

“Welcome back, Yuuri-kun!” Hiroko calls cheerfully from the dining room, peeking her head around the corner.

“Hey, Mom.” But Yuuri doesn’t even look at her as he tugs Victor in the direction of his room.

Victor catches a glance of Hiroko’s confused face before they disappear down the hallway.

 _Ooooh,_ Victor thinks hopefully as they make it to Yuuri’s room and Yuuri closes the door firmly behind them. _Make-up sex!_

To Victor’s dismay, Yuuri drops his hand and moves across the room to his desk. He opens up the top drawer and takes something from it.

_Please be a condom. Please be a condom._

But Victor abandons the thought when he sees the look of reverence on Yuuri’s face. They both take a few steps forward, meeting each other in the middle of the room.

“I have something for you,” Yuuri whispers, taking Victor’s hand and bringing it up so he can place the object inside.

When Yuuri removes his hand, Victor looks to see Yuuri’s golden ring, as shiny and perfect as the day he bought it. Victor lets out a quiet gasp.

“I want you to give it back to me one day,” Yuuri says. “When the time is right.”

Victor holds up the ring, studies the half-snowflake etching on the inside. “I can’t give it back to you right now?” he laments.

Yuuri chuckles. “One conversation does not undo six years of unhappiness,” he says. He curls Victor’s fingers around the ring, enclosing it and keeping it safe. “Although it’s a good start.”

Victor smiles down at Yuuri, holding the ring to his chest. “Then I’ll give you this,” he says, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans. He withdraws his wallet, opens it, and takes his own ring from its hiding place in the billfold.

Yuuri looks down at it, smiling a little. “You carry it with you?”

“Of course,” Victor says. “It’s my most prized possession.” He holds it out to Yuuri. “So take care of it, okay?”

Yuuri nods happily, taking the ring from Victor. “I promise.”

* * *

 

They exit the room shortly after, mostly because Victor can’t forget entirely about Katya. As much as he would like to stay in Yuuri’s room all night, getting to know each other all over again, he first wants to make sure Katya made it back from pizza, and that she’s not in too much pain.

His worrying seems to be for naught, though, as Katya sits happily in the dining room with an enormous parfait in front of her.

Victor makes a dramatic noise of protest as he sits down across from her. “I said you could have a little pizza! What’s all this?”

Hiroko swats him on the back of the head with a dirty napkin she’s collected from a nearby guest. “The child is hurt, Vicchan. Sometimes sweets are the best medicine.”

“I think Mama Katsuki knows best,” Katya tells him seriously. She digs her spoon in and takes a dainty bite.

Yuuri sets a spoon down next to Victor as a consolation. “There’s no use arguing,” he says. “Just let it happen.”

“Fine,” Victor concedes. He and Yuuri both dig into the parfait, earning them a loud “hey!” from Katya.

“Hmmm,” Mari says mischievously, wrestling Jiro into a high chair. “You two sure seem to be getting along.”

Victor eyes Yuuri, not sure how to proceed. They hadn’t talked about whether they wanted people to know they were back together.

“What can I say?” Yuuri sighs. “He wore me down.”

Mari stills. Hiroko pokes her head out of the kitchen.

“What happened?” Katya asks, eyes on her phone. “I was taking a picture of my parfait.”

“Are you serious?” Mari asks. “The idiot actually managed it? I was just teasing.”

Victor smiles, looking at Yuuri as they let his family in on their secret. “I did.”

Mari laughs. “I need a cigarette.”

Hiroko gives the baby some cooked carrots. “Maybe you’ll have a cousin after all, Jiro.”

“Mom!” Yuuri complains.

“What?” she asks, wiping her hands on her apron. “Who else is going to inherit the onsen? Jiro can’t. What if a guest brings a dog?”

“He’s two, Mom,” Mari says flatly as she digs in her apron for her cigarettes.

Katya clinks her spoon on the parfait glass to get their attention. “Does this mean we have to move to Japan?” she asks.

“Ah…” Victor exchanges a glance with Yuuri. “We haven’t decided yet.”

“I mean, I can get used to this…” Katya motions at the parfait. “And I don’t think Russia is ready for the Nishigoris.”

“We haven’t decided yet,” Victor repeats, laughing. “And don’t get _too_ used to it,” he adds, sliding the half-eaten parfait away from her.

The rest of the evening is filled with laughter and cajoling from the Katsukis. Even Minako shows up to join in on the fun. To Victor’s dismay, Katya manages to finish her parfait, but promises a stellar workout on the bike machine at Nishigori’s gym the next day.

Victor and Yuuri finally manage to sneak away. Victor can hardly wait for Yuuri to shut the door behind them before he pulls Yuuri into his arms and kisses him hungrily.

“Whoa,” Yuuri says when they break apart.

“Hi,” Victor says, his eyes trained on Yuuri’s lips.

“Mmmm.” Yuuri puts his hands behind Victor’s head. “Hi,” he whispers.

And Victor can’t resist him any more.


	19. Epilogue

A dull buzzing sound rouses Victor the next morning. The morning sun is just barely starting to peek through the curtains. It’s far too early to be up.

He makes a dissatisfied moan as he looks around for his cell phone. Yuuri, head pillowed on Victor’s bare chest, echoes the sentiment.

“Mmnn,” he groans. “Five more minutes.”

Victor pauses in his search for a moment to gaze down at Yuuri, fighting to stay asleep, so warm and perfect and here in Victor’s arms. He marvels at how lucky he is to have been given a second chance at his soul mate.

The phone stops vibrating and both men relax. Victor, still only half-awake, runs a finger lightly up and down Yuuri’s arm. Yuuri probably doesn’t even feel it, his breathing deep, but Victor does it anyway. He lets his eyes fall shut and is about to follow his boyfriend’s lead when the buzzing starts up again.

Victor drops his arm with an impatient sigh and hoists himself up on one elbow. Yuuri protests more loudly this time, clutching to Victor’s side, refusing to be displaced.

Victor finds his phone quickly and answers. “Hello?” he mumbles.

“Victor? Wake up! I need to talk to you.”

“Yurio?” Victor hikes himself up higher, puts a pillow behind his back so he can sit up a little more comfortably. Yuuri gives him a look that’s dirtier than Victor’s ever seen, even when they were breaking up. “I’m up. What is it?”

“Are you back together with the Katsudon?”

Yurio’s not being quiet, and this close, Yuuri can hear everything he’s saying. He rolls off of Victor blearily and tries to sit up, too.

“Um… yeah?” Victor watches as Yuuri rubs his eyes. “How did you know?”

Yurio doesn’t answer, but laughs so loudly into the phone that Victor has to draw it away from his ear. He and Yuuri look at each other in confusion.

“Sorry, Victor.” Another voice gets on the line. Otabek. He must have taken the phone away from Yurio, who still sounds breathless from laughter. “I told him not to call this early.”

Yuuri’s found his glasses and his phone. “I have twenty-six texts from Phichit,” he says. Then he shoots up, suddenly awake. “Wait a second. Why are we trending?”

Yurio’s peals of laughter intensify. “You two had better get control of your skaters!” he yells into the phone. He’s still cackling when he hangs up the phone.

Victor and Yuuri look at each other in horror. “Oh, no…” Yuuri whispers.

“What have they done now?” Victor’s almost afraid to look.

They both open Twitter on their phones and navigate to the girls’ pages. There, pinned to the top of both Katya’s and the triplets’ feeds, there’s a link to a blog post.

 _‘Piglets to Parfaits: How We Faked A Rivalry To Get Figure Skating’s Most Popular Couple Back Together,’_ an essay by Katya Andreevna and Axel, Lutz, and Loop Nishigori.

“You’ve got to be kidding…” Yuuri says.

“There’s no way.”

But they both start reading and it soon becomes clear that yes, there is a way. And the girls documented _everything_.

They write about how they met online over a year ago. How they planned it all, knowing that if they fought on social media, their coaches would be forced to intervene sooner or later. Victor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki would speak for the first time in six years.

There are pictures, too. Selfies documenting the whole experience. The defaced piglet from Skate Canada became their unofficial mascot and was held up lovingly to the camera at every event they shared. There’s a picture of them throwing popcorn at each other during a movie night when they were snowed in at the Rostelecom Cup. The same popcorn Victor caught Katya popping in the hotel gift shop.

There are also pictures of Yuuri and Victor. Victor handing Yuuri the cup of tea that morning at the rink when they were snowed in. Victor and Yuuri talking at Yakov’s retirement party. Victor and Yuuri walking Lishniy along the beach together.

And the last picture, Victor and Yuuri gazing lovingly at each other behind a half-eaten parfait at the dinner table last night.

Finally, they both put down their phones and look at each other.

“I can’t believe they did all that,” Yuuri says.

“I’m going to kill them,” Victor says, even though he’s forgiven them already.

And then they both laugh. Because even though Katya and the triplets could have easily ruined their careers, Victor and Yuuri will be forever in their debt.


End file.
